My Darlin' Cousin
by darthmaul90
Summary: All is well on the Island of Sodor for Erika and Gordon. But how will things get shaken up when a new locomotive claiming to be her cousin shows up on the island? Meet Daemon, the Cotton Belt #819 and an L-1 / GS-8 class Northern. My thanks to The Raging Blue Flame for letting me use her characters in my story
1. Chapter 1: A New Arrival

My Darlin' Cousin, Chapter 1 – A New Arrival

Erika barely felt the turntable stop as she rolled back into the roundhouse at Tidmouth. She was exhausted. The express she normally double-headed with her boyfriend, Gordon, had run three times today instead of the usual two. And in between those runs, Erika had been forced to run a special train of construction personnel, equipment and supplies to Vicarstown, a loaded coal drag from Kirk Machan all the way to Barrow on the mainland and then a string of empty coal hoppers back to Kirk Machan for reloading. No wonder she felt her drivers were going to give out at any second.

She'd forgotten what it was like to truly work in mid-spring and this time of year on the Island of Sodor was still nothing compared to what she'd once faced in southern California. Mid-Spring meant that all the college and university kids on the mainland were being released from their studies for their special holiday called Spring Break. That always meant a sudden surge in tourism as young folks flocked to the beaches and resorts by the thousands. And with tourism picking up on Sodor like it had been steadily doing for years, it meant extra long, extra crowded and extra frequent passenger trains. Even the express she pulled with Gordon was getting ridiculously long. Normally it was 15 to 17 coaches, but since the beginning of the Spring Break season, it had increased to 21 coaches and sometimes even more than that.

A lot of engines dreaded the Spring Break period and Erika was different. Even so, she knew it was just the warm-up. Though Spring Break lasted less than a month, Erika had often used it a gauge to predict what the summer season was going to be like. In her experience, a busy Spring Break would mean a brutal summer. And if this Spring Break was going to be any indication of what the coming summer would be like… well she could only look forward to the busiest summer she'd had in many years.

The increase in tourism and passenger traffic wasn't the only thing keeping Sodor busy though. Earlier in the year, Sir Topham Hatt had commissioned the building of what was being called the "New Line." Construction had begun last month and was due to be finished in the early autumn. When the "New Line" was finished it would stretch from Vicarstown all the way to Harwick on the northwest side of the island. It was also going to be almost as long as the mainline from Tidmouth to Vicarstown and a portion of the currently abandoned old Harwick Line was being rebuilt to help save on cost.

As a result, the harbors around Sodor were filled to almost overflowing with ships full of construction materials, equipment and people needed for the job. And as soon one ship unloaded, another pulled up to take its place and off load. That had resulted in a lot more freight traffic in recent weeks and nearly all of Sodor's engines had been pressed into some kind of freight duty at one time or another to help keep things moving.

Erika smiled when she recalled how pissed Gordon had become the first time Sir Topham Hatt had told him he was being coupled to a train of flat cars loaded with new rails and ties headed for Vicarstown. "But sir," Gordon had complained. "The indignity of it! I'm a passenger engine! I pull Sodor's Nor' Western Daylight Express with Erika!"

Sir Topham Hatt had rolled his eyes, the reaction from Gordon being exactly what he'd expected. "Yes you do Gordon," he'd assured the big engine. "But you two won't be able to pull the express if the mainline is clogged with freight cars because my engines keep complaining about having to move them. Now just do as you're told or you can sit in the shed and watch James pull your express with Erika for a few days."

Gordon's whistle shrilled at the thought of anyone other than he and Erika running the express train. "Uh… uh that won't be necessary sir," he stumbled. "In… in times of great need, I'm always willing to do what's needed to ensure everything runs smoothly."

Sir Topham Hatt nodded with a smile of satisfaction. "I thought you'd see it my way Gordon. And look on the bright side, you'll get to have a couple hours with your girlfriend before I need you back here. And you two can do whatever it is you two lovebirds do when you think your controller isn't watching you." He said the last sentence with a grin.

Gordon's face turned as red as James's boiler. "Uh, why sir I have no idea what it is you're talking about," he said rather unconvincingly. "Just couple me up to those box cars over there and I'll get underway."

"Don't you mean the flat cars Gordon?"

"Uh… yeah, right. The flat cars. Just couple me up."

Erika remembered how embarrassed Gordon had been about the whole situation and by the time he'd confided the whole episode to her as they pulled that evening's express, the story just made him turn red again. Erika had been just delighted by the whole thing and she'd playfully teased him about it… when they weren't making out. Recalling it again delighted her as much as it has when it had all first unfolded.

The increase in freight traffic however, also concerned Erika. A few days ago, one of the freight trains she'd hauled had been full of building materials for her terminal in Vicarstown. Sir Topham Hatt had explained to her that the roundhouse was being rebuilt and being made to accommodate eight engines instead of four. Plus the old turntable was being completely torn out and rebuilt. It was even being made a longer so that her cowcatcher wouldn't hang over the edge when she used it. In the meantime, a temporary wye just large enough for her was installed in the yard at Vicarstown so she could turn around when necessary.

All of this made Erika wonder if Sir Topham Hatt was going to assign her to the New Line when it was finished. Truth be told, she didn't want the assignment. She liked her job pulling the express and it meant she got spend most, if not all of her day, with Gordon. On top of that, she'd gotten fond of seeing all the people, young and old, flock to see the "Nor' Western Daylight" in action. Being assigned to the New Line would mean a change in trains and schedule and a lot of time with Gordon would be lost.

Erika yawned deeply. She was so tired, she barely noticed Gordon roll onto the turntable outside but his bright blue paint got her attention. Doing her best to stifle another yawn, she let out a tired blast on her whistle. Her "demonic whistle" as Gordon and the others jokingly called it echoed louder than any other sound in the yard and startled several of the human workers nearby.

To Gordon though, it was a harmonious melody that he never grew tired of listening to. In response, he issued a couple of short blasts on his own whistle as the turntable completed its move. Gordon was so excited to have some rest time with Erika, he nearly rolled off the turntable too early. Finally though, he backed into the roundhouse stall next to her. "Ooooo, I feel like my main rods are about to fall off," he complained. "Finally, we get some rest time together my beautiful Daylight."

"I feel the same my big, strong express," Erika replied.

"Hard day today?"

"Ooooo," Erika winced. "You wouldn't believe it."

"Try me darling," he said.

Erika told him about the train of construction equipment and the coal drag she'd had to haul in between running the express trains while Gordon listened. "I feel for you my poor beautiful Daylight. I had to take a train of stone from the Ffarquhar Quarry all the way to Barrow. As soon I dropped it, I was hooked on to the Salad Bowl Express all the back here to Tidmouth. Then it was a short rest and right onto the evening express with you my love." He paused thoughtfully and exhaled deeply. "I'd forgotten just how heavy the Salad Bowl Express can be."

The Salad Bowl Express was an every other day train loaded with fresh produce from the mainland. Because of the perishable nature of the cargo, it was the highest priority freight train on Sodor and second in general priority only to the express passenger train Gordon shared with Erika. "My poor, big express engine," Erika tried to comfort her boyfriend. She wished she was facing him so they could kiss. "Did I ever tell you you're the sexiest engine to ever pull a freight train?"

Gordon laughed. "No, but thank you. So are you."

The other engines started to arrive in the roundhouse, each of them looking more tired than the last one. James arrived, covered in so much coal dust, the others almost didn't recognize him. Henry spoke what the others were thinking. "What were you doing today James?"

"Working the coal mines," he said sleepily. "I'm so tired, I didn't even have the fire in me to go to the wash rack and rinse off. My driver promised me we'd take care of it in the morning before we started off."

"Mavis, you don't look much better," Emily observed.

Mavis was a diesel switcher who also worked the rock quarry and the coal mines as needed. It wasn't common for her to be in Tidmouth, but she was due for a semi-annual inspection and service that the facility where she worked was ill-equipped to handle. "I'm just as tired as James after shunting around those empty coal wagons that Erika brought to us." She sighed heavily. "I don't think I've ever seen so many coal wagons in my life. It had to be the longest coal wagon train in the world."

"Oh I don't know about that Mavis," Erika said. "You should see the length of the coal drags out of the Powder River Basin."

The always cheerful Edward asked, "They make coal drags long in America, huh?"

"Oh yes," Erika said. "Especially out of the Powder River Basin."

"What's the Powder River Basin?" Percy wondered.

"It a region of northeast Wyoming and southeast Montana centered around the Powder River," Erika explained. "It's home to the largest coal mines in the United States. Millions of pounds of coal are hauled out of those mines every day, sometimes on trains more than a mile in length and with up to nine engines required to pull the immense weight."

That stunned the other engines. "Nine engines?" Thomas couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"Yes," Erika said. "All diesels and much more powerful than I am." _Though maybe not as powerful as Glen or Aaron_, she thought.

"Have you ever been to this Powder River Basin?" Emily wondered.

"A couple of times briefly," Erika said. "But I never worked it. Back in the forties and fifties that area was more suited to a couple friends of mine, Glen and Aaron."

"Who are Glen and Aaron," James asked.

Before Erika could answer, Sir Topham Hatt's car pulled up in front of the roundhouse and he got out. "Good evening all of you," he addressed the resting engines. "First of all, I want to personally thank each of you for the extra hard work you've been doing lately. I know I've been working you all rather hard lately with the construction of the New Line and the Spring Break vacationers. And I just want you all to know that your efforts have not gone unnoticed and they are very much appreciated."

All of the engines swelled with pride. "You're quite welcome sir," James spoke for all of them. "But, is there any chance of us getting some sort of help? We're happy to keep working as is if necessary. But an extra set of drivers on the rails would really help us out."

"I agree with James sir," Edward added. "We need the help or else soon we're going to be too tired to work."

"Well now that's another reason why I'm here," Sir Topham Hatt explained. "I've come to tell you all that in the morning, a new engine will be arriving to help you all out."

"Thank the Maker," Gordon said happily. "Who is he and where is he from?"

Emily looked cross. "What makes you think it's a him?" she asked, secretly hoping it would be another female.

"Actually Gordon is right," Sir Topham Hatt replied. "Our new arrival is a male and he's a tender engine from America."

That got Erika's attention. "America? Do I know him?"

"Indeed you do Erika," Sir Topham Hatt answered her. "But he's asked me not to reveal his identity until his arrival. Apparently he wants to surprise you."

Erika pouted. "Can't you at least give me a little hint sir," she asked.

"He's big like you," Sir Topham Hatt. He cut Erika off before she could ask another question. "I'm sorry Erika, but I've already said more than I should have with that. I gave him my word, and I will keep it. You'll find out exactly who it is tomorrow."

"So what will his job be?" Thomas asked politely.

"For the immediate, he'll be assigned to the midday express," Sir Topham Hatt answered. He looked squarely at Gordon who looked like he was about to protest. "That will give you and Erika longer rest breaks between the morning and evening express trains along with whatever freight work I need you to do that day."

Gordon still wanted to protest, but Erika stopped him. "Please don't argue with him Gordon dear. I'd really appreciate the extra rest."

"All right Erika," Gordon whispered. "For you, I'll let it go… under protest."

Erika smiled.

"In addition to the midday express, he'll be working odd jobs where needed until the New Line is finished," Sir Topham Hatt continued. "Ultimately he'll be assigned to it once it's done. But no matter what he's doing, I expect you all to be nice to him and show him some respect. Like Erika, he's coming a long way to help us."

"We'll be sure to make him feel welcome, won't we everyone?" Edward insisted.

"Sure," James replied.

"Of course," Henry added. "We're grateful for the extra help."

"Good," Sir Topham Hatt said. He returned to his car. "I'll see you all again in the morning then when he arrives."

"I look forward to meeting him, whoever he is," Thomas told the other engines after Sir Topham Hatt had departed.

"Me too," Emily confessed. "I'm curious as to what an American male engine of your size is like Erika."

Erika admitted that she too was curious as to who the new arrival was going to be. Going through her mind, she tried to deduce who the new arrival would be based on what Sir Topham Hatt had said. Admittedly, that wasn't much. There were Glen and Aaron of course, the Big Boy brothers. Then there was Brent, the Chicago & North Western number 3013… Jeremiah, the Texas & Pacific number 610… Nicholas, the Nickel Plate Road number 765… Vincent, the Milwaukee Road number 261… Leo, the Southern Pacific number 982… Gus, the Santa Fe number 3751… Gus's brother Walter, the Santa Fe 3759… and… and…

Oh heck, there were just too many of them. Sir Topham Hatt had been so vague in his description of the newcomer, there was no way she could figure out who it was. She'd just have to wait until morning and be surprised like the rest of them.

A sudden wave of horror washed over her. What if it was Aaron? She'd heard recently that he was being restored but she couldn't remember if it the work was being done by his former Union Pacific masters or by some other group entirely. She also didn't know how long that restoration was going to take. She didn't think it was possible for the restoration to be done so quickly, but one never knew.

She and Aaron hadn't parted on the best of terms. After the death of her sister, Elena, Erika had distanced herself further and further away from Aaron to the point where he finally told her that he wasn't sure she'd ever truly loved him at all. What particularly stung abut that comment at the time was that Aaron had been right, although she'd never admitted it to his face. He'd just been something for her to have fun with in the wake of her rejection by her first true love… her original human driver Samuel. When she'd last seen Aaron, shortly before her forced retirement in 1957, they'd been civil to one another but little else.

It was then she realized Gordon had asked her a question. "I'm sorry darling, what was that again?" she asked sheepishly.

"I asked you if you had any idea who the new arrival was going to be?" Gordon said, mildly irritated that he'd had to repeat himself.

"Yeah we were all kind of wondering," Thomas added.

"I really don't know who it could be," Erika admitted. "Sure, I could give you all a list of possibilities. In the end though, it could any one of them or perhaps even none of them at all. We'll just have to wait until morning and see who it is."

There was something in the tone of her voice that concerned Gordon. "What aren't you telling us Erika," he whispered after most of the other engines had dozed off.

Reluctantly, Erika laid it out. "Gordon, I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I'm afraid it might be Aaron."

"Aaron?" Then Gordon remembered. "Ah, that Big Boy class engine you hobnobbed with back in the forties and fifties?"

"That's him," Erika said. "We didn't part on the best of terms and over the years I've realized how silly and infantile my behavior was back then. I regret a lot about how I treated him all those years ago. And I'd kind of like to apologize to him one day. But… I just don't think I'm ready to do that. Not yet."

"You realize that if he shows up here tomorrow, you may not have a choice," Gordon pointed out.

"If he shows up tomorrow, I'll do everything I can to avoid him including hide from him if necessary," Erika said.

Gordon was surprised. "Erika, don't you think that might be being just a tiny bit infantile?"

"You're right of course," she admitted. "And I suppose I'll have to face Aaron sooner or later. I guess I just didn't plan for that day to ever arrive. And now, it could be here as early as tomorrow morning. What do I say to him Gordon?"

Gordon wished he had answer for that. "I… I really don't know Erika. I suppose "hello" would be a good place to start. And then, just let things come naturally. But whatever you do tell him, know that I will be next to you and you will have my full support."

Erika smiled. "Thank you my big, strong express. I love you."

"You're welcome my beautiful Daylight. And I love you too."

By the time Erika woke the next morning, the sun was already in her eyes. Yawning, she realized that the others engines were already awake. Samantha, her driver and Sarah, her firewoman were already hard at work getting her prepared for the day's assignments. "Well, good morning there sleeping beauty," Samantha joked. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd wake up in time to greet the new arrival. He'll be here in a few moments, you know."

Erika wasn't particularly excited about that, having all but convinced herself that it would be Aaron arriving. "Oh," was all she could say.

Erika's reaction surprised her crew. "What, aren't you excited to greet him?"

"Not really," Erika mumbled.

"That's strange," Sarah commented. "I'd have thought you'd be drivers over headlights to greet a relative of yours…"

"Shhht," Samantha reprimanded her with a harsh look.

"Ooops," Sarah said quickly, realizing she'd said too much.

It did not go unnoticed by Erika. "Relative? What do you mean?" If that was true, that eliminated Aaron as the new arrival right there.

Before Samantha or Sarah could answer, a whistle sounded in the distance. That deep, low demonic sound that was now all too familiar to the engines of Sodor. "Another one?" Henry commented.

"Do all of you American engines have whistles that sound like that," Percy wondered fearfully.

Erika was too curious to answer but she couldn't see the new arrival yet as he was hidden behind some parked box cars. But the tell-tale plume of smoke and pronounced stack bark showed he was getting close. There was that whistle again, echoing throughout the Tidmouth yards. It sounded exactly like hers.

_Ella,_ Erika thought.

No that was impossible. Sir Topham Hatt and others had said the new arrival was male. Could they have been wrong? Or maybe they had deliberately misled her?

The new arrival came into view now. He was all black, save for the graphite coloration around his smokebox. His faceplate had a cheerful, down home country look and Erika strained to get a better look. She could just make out the letters "STLSW" under his cab window, a big number 819 on his tender and a brass badge on each of his cylinders. Erika released a jet of steam out of her blow off valve, steam cleaning herself, Gordon and James who was on her other side.

"Hey, watch it," James yelped.

Erika knew who was arriving, and she wasn't one bit happy about it. She wouldn't have thought it possible, but at the moment coming face to face with Aaron would've been preferable to seeing who was arriving. He whistled again and Erika cringed when she heard his voice. "Git outta the way ya dad gum pole cats!" he shouted at a flock of birds whose flight path had taken they too close to the tracks.

Erika let another blast out of her blow off valve. "Oh no," she groaned. "Not him. Anyone but him."

Gordon glanced at Erika. "I take it you know who our new arrival?"

"Yes," Erika admitted through clenched teeth. "I wish I didn't."

Before Gordon could ask another question, the new arrival chuffed his way onto the turntable and settled in as it began to turn him towards the roundhouse. With steam hissing from his cylinders, he let out a long blast on his whistle, startling numerous workers nearby. He opened his blow downs and relieved himself of the dirt and other crud that had accumulated in his boiler. "Ooooo weeee," he shouted. "What a trip that was. Been so danged long since I been steamed up, I thought I mighta had too much rust in my bearin's."

The other engines had never heard a voice like his before and they looked at each other, unsure of what to say or do. All that is, except Erika who looked like she'd just face to face with the creature from her most terrifying nightmare. "Erika," Percy asked. "What's a pole cat?"

"I have no idea Percy," she answered.

A confused expression came over Percy as he imagined a cat somehow stuck on a pole. What kind of a creature was that and who'd want to stick a cat on a pole anyway?

Thomas studied the new arrival as he swung on the table. He was bigger than Gordon but not quite as big as Erika. He could see that the brass badges on his cylinders said "Cotton Belt Route." What did that mean?

The turntable finally stopped moving and the new arrival was facing the other engines in the shed. Much to Erika's dismay, the turntable track had stopped so that it was lined directly with her stall. _Great. Just great,_ Erika thought, wondering how this day could get any worse.

"Well hi there lil' darlin'." The new arrival spoke directly to her. "Fancy meetin' you again way out here."

_I had to ask! I had to ask!_ Erika cursed herself and let out a loud, angry blast on her whistle, her facial expression telling everyone she was not happy about how she'd just been addressed. "How dare you call me that!"

The new arrival glanced over at Henry who had a dumbfounded expression on his face. "I guess bein' called that still scorches her crown sheet a mite."

Erika whistled angrily again to make her point, prompting another plea from James. "Will you stop that please? You're going to steam my paint off!"

"Excuse me stranger," Gordon said indignantly. "But do you have any idea just who it is you are talking to?"

"Well of course I do," the new arrival replied. "I'm talkin' to my cousin… lil' darlin'."

Gordon was shocked. "Your cousin?!"

Emily and Thomas both whistled in surprise.

Erika let out the angriest whistle so far. James rolled his eyes and said nothing. He was going to have to have his driver be certain she hadn't stripped the paint off of him before they got started today. "We are **not** cousins!" Erika yelled.

"Well of course we are," the new arrival insisted. "You a GS series engine ain't ya?"

"Last time I checked," Erika replied with a load of sarcasm.

"So is I," the new arrival stated proudly.

"Just who are you anyway?" Gordon demanded.

"Well shut my blow downs and call me boiler washed," the new arrival said sheepishly. "Where in tarnation are my manners? My name's Daemon ya'll and I'm right pleased to meet all of ya. I'm a St. Louis Southwestern four eight four, GS-8 class."

Emily looked over at Henry. "Henry, what's a 'tar nation'?"

"You're asking me? How do I know?"

Erika whistled defiantly at Daemon. "You're an L-1 class!" she screamed.

Daemon glanced over at James. "Technically she's right. I was built as an L-1 class. But when Southern Pacific acquired me, they saw fit ta reclassify me as a GS-8."

"And I will never understand why Southern Pacific did that," Erika growled. "You're not a Daylight engine, you never have been a Daylight engine and you never will be a Daylight engine!"

Before she could say more, Sir Topham Hatt's car arrived and he got out. At the same time, a tall man wearing a black leather jacket and tan beret on his head got down from Daemon's cab. The two men shook hands and Sir Topham Hatt addressed his new engine. "Welcome to Sodor Daemon," he said cheerfully. "I'm pleased that you'll be working with us from now on."

"Well that's right kind of you ta say that sir," Daemon responded happily. "I'm sure happy ta be here and I look forward ta gittin' started."

"Excellent," Sir Topham Hatt smiled. "And are you getting to know everyone?"

"I'm tryin' sir."

"Good. Well I know you've had a long ride to get here, so for now you can rest. Your first assignment will be today's midday express from Tidmouth to Barrow and back."

"All right sir," Daemon said. "Like I done said, I look forward ta gittin' started."

"Excuse me sir," Erika said. "But does Daemon really have to take the midday express? I mean, Gordon and I are perfectly capable of handling all three daily express trains along with whatever extra work you may have for us."

_Speak for yourself woman,_ Gordon thought.

Erika kept on. "Surely there's somewhere else Daemon can be used?" If she was going to have anything to say about it, there was no way in heck Daemon was going to pull any express train on Sodor ever.

Sir Topham Hatt cast a disapproving stare at Erika, knowing full well what Erika was trying to do. Daemon's driver, Bruce, had warned Sir Topham Hatt that there was some bad steam between the two and that she was likely to be pissed just having Daemon on Sodor. It seemed that Bruce had been correct. "Daemon was designed for passenger service, as you were. I am assured he'll perform that task with great efficiency."

Erika refused to give up. "But sir, surely James or Henry would be more suited to the task?"

"My decision is final Erika," Sir Topham Hatt said. "You have your orders as Daemon has his. I expect them to be carried out to my satisfaction and without complaint. Do I make myself clear Erika?"

_In other words, drop it,_ Erika deduced. "Yes sir," she said. Erika had had enough of this humiliation. "Gordon, it's time we were getting to the morning express."

"What do you mean?" he protested. "It doesn't leave Tidmouth for another half hour."

"Gordon," Erika said firmly, not taking her eyes off of Daemon. "Move," she demanded.

Daemon wasn't sure if that command was for Gordon or himself, but he obliged her by backing off the turntable and allowing her on. With an indignant "Hmph!" Erika steamed off in the direction of the Tidmouth station.

Gordon wasn't sure what to say. Daemon was a little rough around the edges, but he hadn't seemed that offensive. "It uh… it was a pleasure meeting you Daemon," he said. "I look forward to working with you in the future. Just don't scuff my express cars."

"Don't you worry none about that Gordon," Daemon assured him. "I'll take right fine care of them and bring them back ta you shinier than a brass bell. And uh, could you maybe git my cousin to loosen up her drivers a bit?"

"What makes you think I can do anything?"

"Oh come on there Gordon," Daemon said. "I may be country but I ain't stupid. I know you the same Gordon that's put a extra spark in her firebox."

Gordon turned red with embarrassment as he heard Alex and Mark laughing in the cab. The other engines were laughing too. "Well I… uh… you see… I can't promise anything Daemon, but I'll speak to her."

"Thank you kindly."

Gordon left the yard faster than Erika but for a much different reason. Nearby Bruce was smiling and shaking his head. "That went about as well as could be expected," he said sarcastically.

"Shoot, I hope I didn't hurt no one's feelin's," Daemon said.

"I don't think so Daemon," Bruce said. "But you sure confused and surprised a lot of them. And one thing is absolutely clear… Erika is not happy to see you again."

"I know," Daemon said. "Dang it, all these years later I was kinda hopin' lil' darlin' had softened up a bit. Guess that was too much to hope for. I don't understand why she's so dang angry at me."

"Now give it a chance Daemon," Bruce encouraged. "After all, it's been nearly 60 years since you last saw one another. Time changes attitudes and eventually you both may find that you have a lot more in common that you realize. It wasn't all bad between you and her, was it?"

"Naw it wasn't," Daemon answered.

"All right then," Bruce said. "I have to go discuss a few things with Sir Topham Hatt and I'm kind of hungry. I'll leave you to get acquainted with the rest engines."

"Sure thing Mister Bruce," Daemon said. "I'll see ya later when we git the midday express."

"So tell us about yourself Daemon," Thomas encouraged.

"Yes, please do," Emily insisted. "You can park in the stall next to me if you like."

"Well that's right neighborly of you lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "Let me git turned around here and we all can have a chat." After spinning around on the turntable and settling in the stall offered to him, Daemon began to tell them about himself. "Well now, I'm originally from a place called Pine Bluff, Arkansas, but I worked in a much bigger city called Dallas. As I said, my railroad was the St. Louis and Southwestern but we was affectionately known as the Cotton Belt Route. Now back in them days…"


	2. Chapter 2: Over My Blown Boiler

My Darlin' Cousin, Chapter 2 – Over My Blown Boiler

Of all the indignities! Of all the disgraces! Daemon! Of all the engines Sir Topham Hatt could've brought to Sodor, why did it have to be Daemon! Ugh, Erika couldn't stand him! That annoying voice of his and that insufferably cheerful demeanor he always presented. And he had the unmitigated gall to call himself a GS-8! It was inexcusable! It was intolerable! She'd finally found a home where she could happy and boyfriend she loved and now this monstrosity had been dumped on her. Well, that was something that she wasn't going to take and no matter what, she was going to make sure his stay on Sodor was very, very short.

"Erika, slow down!" Gordon shouted at her.

They were approaching a curve while taking the Morning Nor' Western back to Tidmouth and Erika was going too fast. With sudden visions of the wreck she and Gordon had flashing through her mind, Erika applied her brakes and was just able to negotiate her way through it without derailing. _That was close_, she thought.

Samantha was ticked at her. That was the third time this morning Erika had been going almost too fast around a curve again. "What's wrong with you today?" she shouted.

"Nothing," Erika yelled. "Nothing at all."

Samantha knew that was a load of charcoal but she didn't press the issue until they'd arrived at Kellsthorpe Road station to take on and discharge passengers. In a huff, Samantha climbed down from Erika's cab, marched straight up to the big Daylight and got right in her face. "All right, out with it," she demanded. "What's got your firebox so blazing hot today?"

"Nothing," Erika insisted. "I'm fine!"

Behind her, Gordon belched loudly. "Says you," he moaned. "Oooof. I think I'm about to blow coal out of my cylinders."

Alex, Gordon's driver shouted ahead at Samantha. "Hey, would you tell Erika to take it easy! Gordon's boiler pressure is starting to get too high!"

"I'm working on it," Samantha shouted back. She then gave Erika a hard stare and gestured back towards Gordon to make it clear how sick she'd made him and that his crew didn't appreciate it. "Well?" she asked. "We're going to stand right here until you spill it."

A large plume of steam erupted from Erika's blow off valve. "Why did it have to be Daemon?" she asked angrily. "Why not someone else like my old friend, Tex? Or Brent? Heck, I'd even rather be face to face with my old nemesis, Madison, than with Daemon!"

"So that's what's got you so fired up," Samantha nodded. "Why Erika? Why do you hate him so much?"

"For starters it's that voice of his," Erika complained. "Ugh, it just sounds so… so…"

"Country?" Samantha finished for her.

"Yes," Erika exclaimed.

"So what's wrong with that?"

Erika was caught off guard by the question and admitted she really didn't have a reason for disliking it. But rather than admit that out loud, she avoided the issue entirely by continuing her tirade. "And then he has the audacity to call himself my cousin and a GS-8 class to boot!"

"Daemon is your cousin," Samantha pointed out.

Erika whistled loudly. "No he's **not**!"

"Yes he is, if only by adoption," Samantha corrected her. "Now whether you accept that or not, it's still the truth and the truth will never go away just because you don't like it. And Daemon is a GS-8 class engine."

That prompted another loud whistle from Erika. "He is not a GS-8. He's not streamlined and he doesn't wear Daylight colors."

Samantha rolled her eyes. Now Erika was just being silly. "Have you forgotten that your sister, Ella, was never completely streamlined and never wore Daylight colors either?" As Samantha expected, Erika didn't have an answer for that.

The conversation was becoming pointless. Erika was being way too stubborn to listen to reason. "Look Erika," Samantha told her. "I don't think those are your only reasons for being angry with Daemon. But whatever they are, I'm not going to try to solve those issues for you. That's for the two of you to work out. As to why it was Daemon chosen instead of someone else, only Sir Topham Hatt and maybe Bruce know that and neither of them are telling me. And why should they? It's none of my business and neither is it your business. You and how you perform, on the other hand, are my business. So I strongly suggest you get your faceplate out of your tender and get your mind back on your job. You've already taken one spill off the tracks here that nearly killed both you and Gordon. I don't want a repeat performance of that event and I'm sure you don't either. I know good and well Gordon doesn't."

"They could've at least sent my best friend Christine," Erika grumbled.

"You know better than most that her masters are never going to let that happen."

Erika admitted that was true. Christine was her best friend in the world and she had always loved seeing her and pulling excursion trains with her all over the United States. Christine was a legend among American steam locomotives and one that all who remained secretly aspired to be like, though none of them could ever truly achieve it. She was Union Pacific 844, an FEF-3 class 4-8-4 type and the only steam locomotive on a large American railroad to have never been retired. Almost yearly, Christine ran dozens of excursion trips all over America to the delight of thousands of people. Erika had been on many of those same excursions with her and often thought of those days with great happiness.

The conductor on the platform blew his whistle. It was time to leave. "Let's go," Samantha said. She climbed up Erika's cowcatcher, up the steps beside her face and made her way back to the cab via the running board. "And go easy from here on, if only for your boyfriend's sake."

Gordon belched again for emphasis.

Sometime later Erika was back in Tidmouth waiting for her next assignment. She and Gordon had been detached from the express and he sat next to her waiting to be cleared to Knapford Harbor where a string of empty hoppers bound for the quarry at the end of the Skarloey Railway was waiting. Diesel had already shunted the express coaches into the yard for servicing and was in the process of pulling the second set of express coaches into Tidmouth Station for the midday run under Erika's watchful eye.

She seethed with fury as she watched Diesel set the coaches, then uncouple and roll off for his next task. The very idea that Daemon would be coupled to those cars soon got her fire hotter than ever. She couldn't stand it. Those beautiful coaches would be pulled by a plain looking engine like him.

Gordon noticed her distress. "What's wrong my beautiful Daylight?" he asked her.

"That's what's wrong," Erika growled gesturing towards the coaches that were awaiting Daemon's arrival and just starting to fill up. Those beautiful coaches will soon be behind that lousy excuse for a passenger engine."

"You mean your cousin, Daemon?"

Erika whistled loudly in anger. "Don't you start calling him that now, Gordon!"

"I'm sorry, but just don't understand what the big deal is," Gordon apologized, yet defended himself. "So what if he's your cousin?"

"You're not from America, so you wouldn't understand," she said.

"Then make me understand," Gordon challenged.

Erika wasn't in the mood to debate. Instead she stared intently at those express cars that were waiting. "I'll be damned if Daemon is going to pull a passenger train around here, least of all my Nor' Western Daylight!" And with that, she ran forward past the switch where the track she was on linked with the track where the express was waiting and called down to the switchman. "You there!"

"Yes Erika?" the switchman responded.

"There's been a change in schedule," Erika said. "I'll be taking the Midday Express today. Line me up please."

The swtichman seemed hesitant. "Are you sure Erika? Last I heard the new engine, Daemon, was going to be taking the midday express."

Erika's eccentric cranks almost popped off but she maintained her demeanor. "Yes," she insisted. "He got tied up in Tidmouth Harbor. The orders should be coming through any time."

"All right Erika, if you say so," the switchman replied as he lined the track for her. Erika rolled back and coupled up.

"What are you doing Erika?" Gordon whispered in alarm. "You know you're not supposed to be on the Midday Express!"

"I'm doing my job Gordon," Erika hissed. "Daemon can do some other job!"

Before anything more could be said between them, a surprised Samantha appeared on the platform. "I thought Daemon was taking the Midday Express?"

"Uh, there's been a change in schedule," Erika claimed. "Daemon got tied up at Tidmouth Harbor, so it's up to us to pull the Midday Express."

Samantha wasn't convinced by Erika's claim and she glanced back at Gordon who stared straight ahead, refusing to look at her. "Are you sure about that? I haven't received any orders stating that."

"It was cleared by dispatch," Erika claimed.

She shrugged. "All right," she said.

With alternating plumes of steam hissing from her cylinder cocks, Erika started off. It wasn't until she'd cleared the platform that Samantha noticed the red signal that Erika had run. "Erika wait!" she screamed. "You're leaving too soon! The passengers!"

But Erika kept going.

The station master raced out of the building and ran right over to the switchman who had aligned the tracks. "Are you crazy?" he yelled. "Daemon's supposed to be on that train! Erika's supposed to be heading up to Peel Godred to a get a train bound for Brendham!"

In wide-eyed shock and horror, the switchman realized his error and looked down the line at Erika, too far ahead now for shouting at her to be of any good. "Oh fiddlesticks," was all he could say.

Running light, Daemon chuffed happily towards Tidmouth Station. "You looking forward to our first day on the job?" Bruce asked him.

"I sure am Mister Bruce," Daemon said. "Golly it sure does feel good to be workin' again. I thought these days was long gone."

"Me too Daemon," Bruce said. "Me too." He pushed Daemon's throttle in and lowered his speed as they negotiated a curve and Mike, Daemon's fireman, poured some sand into his firebox.

It made Daemon cough and his drivers slipped. "Aw dad gum, I wish you wouldn't do that Mister Mike," he complained.

"Daemon, you know it helps keep your flues clean," Mike replied.

"I know, but I still wish you wouldn't do it. Makes me feel like I'm suffin' from hay fever."

Mike was glad that wasn't the case. He'd fired a small engine once that had suffered from hay fever and as they'd chuffed through a wide meadow, the poor girl had slipped her drivers more than a dozen times from all the sneezing. He didn't want to guess what would happen if Daemon developed a sneezing fit like that.

Approaching Tidmouth Station, they were suddenly confronted by a red signal and a bunch of light engines standing around including Henry, Diesel, Gordon and James. "Uh oh. Looks like we got a problem here," Bruce said as he closed Daemon's throttle and applied the brakes. Down on the ground, a flagman appeared and signaled Daemon to keep moving past the signal and come to a stop just behind Diesel.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked as the flagman climbed into the cab.

"I'm not sure sir," the flagman replied. "But Sir Topham Hatt needs to speak to you right away." Pointing straight ahead, he added, "You'll find him up there by Diesel."

"Go ahead Bruce," Mike said. "I got everything under control here."

Bruce climbed down from the cab followed by the flagman and the two of them walked up the platform to where Sir Topham Hatt was standing. Further up that same platform a crowd of angry people, mostly young kids on Spring Break, was gathered demanding to know where their train was. Bruce guessed what had happened. _Oh boy,_ he thought.

Sit Topham Hatt motioned him over when he saw Bruce approaching. "We have a problem," he said stating the obvious.

"So I gathered," Bruce responded, gesturing in the direction of the angry mob. "What's going on here?"

"Erika took off with the Midday Nor' Western," Sir Topham Hatt said.

It was the answer Bruce expected. "Is that so?"

His reaction somewhat surprised Sir Topham Hatt. "You don't sound surprised by that."

"That's because I'm not sir," Bruce answered. "I am assuming she did not have orders to do that."

"No she didn't," Sir Topham Hatt confirmed. "But she fooled one of my switchmen into thinking she did." He a gave a hard disapproving stare at the man who had failed to follow protocol and check with the dispatcher before giving Erika clearance to couple up.

"I'm terribly sorry sir," the switchman said dismally. "I should've checked with dispatch first but she was just so insistent."

Sir Topham Hatt let the matter of the switchman drop for the time being. "And what's worse, is that she took off more than twenty minutes ahead of schedule before the coaches were even half loaded. That's why I've got this angry mob on my hands."

Diesel couldn't resist adding his two cents to the conversation. "It's what I've always said sir. Never send an old, clanky coffee pot to do a diesel's work."

What Diesel didn't know what that Daemon was right behind him and his comment did not go unheard. Daemon issued a loud, angry report on his whistle that scared Diesel so bad he nearly jumped off the rails. "YAAAAAAAH," he screamed in terror as that loud low-pitched whistle made itself known.

"And like I always say," Daemon returned the compliment. "Never send a greasy, foul tempered scaredy cat shunter ta do anythin'."

Diesel grumbled a series of curses heard only by himself.

Sir Topham Hatt decided not to press the issue further. What Daemon had done to set Diesel straight was enough for the moment. "We've been waiting for you and Daemon to arrive so we can couple him up to the other set of express coaches and run a second section. Diesel, bring them out here and roll them in behind Daemon."

Diesel wasn't quite finished with his latest tirade against steam engines though. "Sir, do we really need to use a steamer for this job?"

Sir Topham Hatt was not going to debate the subject. "Now Diesel, or be stuck working the Waste Dump for a month."

If there was one thing Diesel hated more than working with steam engines, it was working the Sodor Waste Dump with anything. "One set of express coaches, coming right up sir!" And he rolled off before Sir Topham Hatt could say more.

"As soon as Diesel is clear of this track, run Daemon forward to the far end of the platform. We'll board as fast as we can."

"All right sir," Bruce said.

As Bruce returned to Daemon, Sir Topham Hatt issued some more orders. "James, why don't you couple in behind Daemon and go with him. Might as well not waste the opportunity to give Daemon a tour of the mainline as you go."

"All right sir," James responded. "Hope you don't mind Daemon."

"Naw, not at all," Daemon answered happily. "I'd like a tour o' this place and it'll give us a chance ta git ta know one another."

"Henry, there's a freight up at Peel Godred that needs to go to the harbor in Brendham. I was going to assign it to Erika, but now you'll have to do it. If it's too heavy for you alone, get Thomas, Emily or Percy to help you."

"Okay sir," Henry answered.

"What about me?" Gordon asked. "I could probably haul it without help and save time."

"That may be Gordon but you're off duty until the Evening Nor' Western and you'll be double-heading with Daemon tonight instead of Erika," Sir Topham Hatt told him. "You and I haven't even started to discuss your role in today's fiasco."

Gordon sighed as he knew what that meant. He had a long tender-chewing to look forward too.

Back in Daemon's cab, Bruce filled Mike in on the details as to what had happened. "Unbelievable," Mike responded to the whole story. "I know Erika is a proud engine and she has every right to be. But she's getting a little too proud for her drivers."

"Why in tarnation would she even do something that stupid?" Daemon wondered. "I mean, I know she's got her issues with me an' all. But dad gum, that borders on total lunacy. I seen engines git retired for less than that."

"Hopefully, that won't be the case with Erika," Bruce said. "But when someone's anger is that palpable, all too often common sense gets kicked in the rear."

Samantha was furious. Erika had never been granted permission to take the Midday Express. That had just been her burning desire to keep it away from Daemon. And now, people were suffering for her stubbornness. There were no doubt dozens, perhaps hundreds of people back in Tidmouth screaming in Sir Topham Hattt's ear wondering why the express left without them, and early to boot.

But what burned Samantha even more was that Erika had lied to her about it. In all the time she and Erika had been together, she'd never had a reason to question Erika's trustworthiness until now. And she was pissed at herself for not making sure Erika had truly been cleared by dispatch on the Midday Express anyway. But as she just told herself, until now she'd never had a reason to question Erika's credibility.

Three times Samantha had tried to force Erika to stop, but Erika fought her every time. Finally, out of concern for potentially ruining Erika's brakes, Samantha quit and just let her go on her merry way. Stopping her now would just cause more of a problem anyway. No doubt they'd arranged for someone to pull a second section of the Midday Express by now. Possibly Daemon, possibly someone else.

Due to the low number of people on board when Erika had steamed out of Tidmouth, Erika completed the run in far less time than it usually took. As soon as Erika was clear of the active main, Samantha hopped down from the cab and furiously went to confront Erika. "What are you doing! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm doing my job!" Erika stated flatly.

"Bull!" Samantha yelled. "You lied to me Erika! You never had clearance to take the Midday Nor' Western anywhere. The only reason you took it was because of your crazy desire not to see Daemon at the head of the train!"

"So what if it was?!"

Samantha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was this the same Erika she'd been driving for years now? "So what?" she said in exasperation. "So what?! Who do you think runs this railroad Erika? You? Well think again you stubborn mule because you don't." Samantha shook her head and forced herself to calm down a little. "I can't believe we're having this conversation Erika. Until this afternoon, I never had a reason to doubt your word. But all that vanished when we left Tidmouth with a train we weren't supposed to be on and for the reasons you were on it. Sarah and I are going to get something to eat now. You just stay right there and think about what the consequences are going to be for what you've done. Because this little tongue lashing I've given you won't even begin to compare to what we're both facing at the hands of Sir Topham Hatt when we get back! If we're lucky, we'll just end up working the scrap yard for a month!"

It was only after Samantha and Sarah had both gone that Erika began to realize just how much trouble she may have caused by doing what she had. Would Sir Topham Hatt really assign her to the scrap yards? Would he take her away from her beloved Nor' Western Daylight? From her beloved, big, strong express?

A cold shiver went down the top of her boiler. What if Sir Topham Hatt sent her back to Portland for what she'd done? That would mean all she'd have to look forward to was seven or eight excursion trips per year and days upon days of sitting alone in a one stall shed. Yeah she'd be reunited with Christine again on occasion, but there would be no real work for her to do and Jackson and "Old Man" Jim to talk to. And at that moment she realized just how much she was enjoying the company of the other engines, her daily work routine and feeling useful again.

And then the ultimate horror hit her. If Sir Topham Hatt sent her away she'd lose her big, strong express. There was no way Sir Topham Hatt would allow Gordon to move to the United States and even if he did, Erika had to admit that being an excursion locomotive just wasn't Gordon's style. With visions of her sadly whistling good-bye to Gordon while on a barge bound for the US filling her mind, the tears started to fall from Erika's eyes. And as if Mother Nature was sympathizing with the poor Daylight, it started to rain. Erika barely noticed it as her drivers and side rods trembled and shuddered with her sobs.

What hurt the most though was the fact that she'd lied to Samantha about the whole thing. Throughout her life, she befriended near countless humans and considered many to be among her closest friends. But there were four who she considered the most dear to her; four that she would willingly go to the scrap yard for if it was necessary. Samuel, her original driver that she'd fallen in love with; Jack Holst, the man who had kept her and her step-brother Jackson oiled during those terrible years in Oaks Park; Doyle McCormack, the man who had cared for her for thirty some years after she'd been restored; and finally Samantha, her current driver. At that moment, Erika vowed never to lie to Samantha again, no matter what was bothering her or going through her mind and she prayed that Samantha would one day forgive her.

Samantha was ready to tear into Erika some more as she and Sarah returned from their meal, but she held back as she saw her precious Daylight quaking with sobs. Samantha then allowed herself a slight, if somewhat melancholy, smile. She'd gotten through to the big engine. "Don't ever make me doubt you again Erika," she whispered to herself. "Never again."

A loud whistle report in the distance shook Erika from her sadness and she looked up to see Daemon and James approaching with the second string of express coaches. Erika then realized the utter futility of what she'd done. "He's pulling the Nor' Western anyway," she remarked aloud, though unlike before there was little, if any, animosity in her voice.

Samantha leaned up against her cylinders. "I don't know why you're surprised Erika. After the stunt you pulled, Sir Topham Hatt would've had no choice but to send a second section."

Erika admitted that was true.

With Daemon leading and James behind him, the second section of the Midday Express pulled to a stop in Barrow. Daemon whistled again as the last of his passengers began to get off. He looked at Erika and could tell from the expression on her face that she was in considerable distress. "Lil' darlin'," he said. "All I'm gonna say is, that wasn't the smartest thing ya ever did."

Erika ignored him, having accepted the truth of that statement long before he ever vocalized it.

Samantha and Sarah both climbed up into Daemon's cab and spoke to Bruce. "Bruce… I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. I never should've let Erika go off like that without verifying her claim first."

"That's good for a start," Bruce replied.

"Is there anything Erika, Sarah or I can do to make it up to you guys?"

The bashful expression that Sarah had on her face did not go unnoticed by Bruce but for the time being, he elected to let it go. "Just remind Erika that the rules exist for a reason and we all need to follow them," Bruce pointed out.

Samantha nodded, excused herself and climbed back down to return to Erika. Sarah smiled at Bruce, nodded once and followed Samantha. Bruce watched the spot where Sarah had stood for several seconds after she'd gone. Mike couldn't help but notice it and said with a smile, "She is rather cute, isn't she?"

"Knock it off," Bruce said as he turned back to Daemon's throttle.

"Hey, I'm just sayin'," Mike said. "When was the last time you saw a woman firing a steam locomotive who was that attractive?"

"Erika's driver is also a woman," Bruce pointed out.

"Oh come on Bruce," Mike said, calling Bruce's bluff. "You and I have been friends since we were in diapers. I know your type bud, and it's not Samantha. Sarah on the other hand, is most definitely your type." He started to laugh and Bruce rolled his eyes.

A little over a half hour later, both sets of express coaches and all the engines had been turned for the return trip to Tidmouth. The passengers were boarding and even though the conductor was trying to hurry them along as much as possible, they were taking their sweet time. Nervously, the conductor checked his watch. The earlier fiasco was still having a negative effect as they were already fifteen minutes late in departing. If they didn't get started soon, there wouldn't be enough time to turn the train, board and depart Tidmouth on time with the Evening Nor' Western.

The station master visited all three engines and their drivers on the platform where he issued the running orders. First up was James. "James, there's a general merchandise freight waiting in the siding about a mile ahead. Sir Topham Hatt wants you to take that train to Peel Godred. You can leave for the train now and couple up, but you're not to depart with it until the Nor' Western has passed you and you are given clear signals. Understood?"

"Will do sir," James replied. To Daemon he said, "It was fun pulling the Nor' Western with you Daemon. I enjoyed our talk."

"Well shoot there James, so did I," Daemon answered. "Let's do it again sometime."

As James steamed away, the station master addressed Daemon and Erika. "Obviously that leaves you two to double-head the Nor' Western back to Tidmouth. Daemon, you will lead it with Erika behind you."

"Well all right sir," Daemon replied. "That okay with you lil' darlin'?"

Daemon was going to lead it? Lead her? Erika started to protest but was stopped by Samantha. "Don't Erika. We're both in enough hot water as it is. Better not to stir the pot and make it worse."

Erika still wanted to protest but she decided Samantha was right. Despite all that had happened, she still didn't want to see Daemon at the head of _her_ train. But under the circumstances it was probably better to just keep her mouth shut for now. "Fine," she mumbled.

And so it was about twenty minutes later that Erika found herself coupled to Daemon's tender as he cheerfully led the Nor' Western Daylight back home, whistling a greeting to James as they passed him on the siding. Erika barely paid any attention to either of them. She was still far too depressed and dreading what was in store for her as punishment for her little stunt.

Daemon tried to be encouraging. "What's wrong lil' darlin'? Look around ya. Don't ya see how beautiful the countryside is around here?" He blasted his whistle in happiness.

Of course Erika had seen it many times over, but right now she just didn't feel like seeing the beauty in anything. Not even in her own Daylight colors. "I'm scared Daemon," she confessed, surprised at her own words. Not so much that she'd said them, but who she was saying them too.

"Scared? What in tarnation ya scared about?"

"I'm afraid of what's going to happen to me because of what I've done," Erika wailed.

"Aw now don't let that git water in yer ashpan there lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "Yeah, you done somethin' real dumb and there's gonna be consequences for it. Probably git stuck doin' a job ya don't like for a while. But it won't be that bad."

"You think so?" Erika asked.

It was a genuine question. There was no sarcasm or traces of irritability in her voice. It was almost as if she was searching for some kind of hope to cling to. "Sure lil' darlin'," Daemon assured her. "Everyone o' us screws up from time ta time. The important thing is to learn somethin' useful from it and not repeat the mistake again."

Erika was silent the rest of the trip as she slowly contemplated Daemon's words. For a country boy, he actually had some sound wisdom in him. And with a start, she realized that wasn't the first time she'd thought that about him. Maybe it was those "good ol' down home values," he talked about every now and then. Well, whether Sir Topham Hatt allowed her to stay or not, this was one mistake she would never repeat. Ever.

Erika was not encouraged when she saw the dark scowl on Sir Topham Hatt's face as they rolled back into Tidmouth. Daemon was uncoupled from her and given orders to immediately turn around and report back for the Evening Nor' Western. On an adjacent track, Gordon sat waiting for Daemon to return so they could double-head the train. Erika tried to make eye contact with him but he wouldn't even look at her.

Erika stumbled over her words. "Sir Topham Hatt… I… I'm sorry. I never meant to…"

Sir Topham Hatt cut her off. "No, no," he said. "No, no, no… we're not going to go over all this right now. Your actions have caused problems across nearly all lines and there is a lot more work to do to get this straightened out. Now there's a loaded coal drag blocking one of the main tracks at Knapford that needs to go to Barrow. That's your next assignment. You can depart as soon as you've turned."

"Yes sir," Erika said, somewhat relieved that she wasn't facing the music yet.

"Go on, get to it," Sir Topham Hatt ordered. "There will be additional orders for you upon you arrival in Barrow. As for what else happened today… we'll discuss that later."

Daemon returned just as Erika steamed off to go turn around. "Uh, Sir Topham Hatt sir?"

"Yes Daemon, what is it?" Sir Topham Hatt responded politely.

"Beggin' your pardon sir but may I talk ta you for a moment please… in private?"

"Of course Daemon."

Erika said little as she hauled the coal drag towards Barrow, electing to keep her mind focused on her work as Samantha had warned her she should do. Erika cursed herself. If she'd listened to Samantha's advice when it was first given, none of the mess she'd caused or was in would exist. For her part, Samantha was pleasantly surprised. It was the best performance she'd gotten out of Erika all day and she hoped her Daylight would continue this kind of performance even with Daemon around.

Even as she ran at her best though, Erika was feeling her worst. She'd tried to say something to Gordon again before steaming out of Tidmouth, but as with when she'd arrived, he hadn't said a word to her or even looked in her direction. All he'd done was stare at the tracks in front of him with a depressed expression.

That had torn Erika up and she was hoping Gordon was in a better mood by the time she returned to Tidmouth, whenever that was going to be. At least she hoped he'd be in a mood to talk to her. She wanted to talk to him and hear that deep voice she'd fallen in love with so easily a year ago. Every time he spoke her name it sent chills down her boiler and until now, after going without it for most of the day, she had never realized just how much she missed Gordon's voice speaking to her and how much she needed to hear it.

The sun was just beginning to set as Erika arrived in Barrow and was detached from the coal drag. Samantha climbed down from the cab and walked up to Erika. "I'm very pleased with that run Erika. It's the best run you've given me today. Keep it up."

Erika nodded. "I will Samantha. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Samantha replied. "I'm going to check in with dispatch and get our next assignment."

She was just starting to walk off when Erika stopped her. "Samantha?"

"Yes, Erika?"

Her eyes started to tear up and her bottom lip trembled. "I'm sorry Samantha. I'm sorry I lied to you."

Samantha smiled at her and gave her a gentle, reassuring pat. "I accept your apology Erika. Just don't ever lie to me again and we'll speak no more of this. Okay?"

Erika nodded eagerly. "All right." She sniffed deeply and composed herself, while Samantha went to check in. Looking off into the distance, she watched the sun continue its decent towards the horizon and wished Gordon was with her to watch it.

Watching the sun start to go down reminded Erika of Southern California and the few times she'd been assigned to Southern Pacific's Starlight train. The Starlight had run the same route as the Coast Daylight that she and sisters had once been responsible for. Only the Starlight departed Los Angeles in the early evening and ran all night, arriving in San Francisco just in time for breakfast.

Four of Erika's other sisters whom she hadn't known very well had been responsible for the train. Truth be told, she couldn't even remember their names now. But when one of them needed maintenance, it was up to one of the Daylight sisters to pick up the slack. Edith and Elena had often complained about it, saying that "their beautiful colors were fit only for daytime work."

Erika however, had never minded being assigned to the Starlight though it was not something she broadcasted to her sisters. Running on the coast line with the sun going down next to her always made the ocean gleam like it was made of molten gold. And on a night where there was full moon, everything around her seemed to shine with a silvery brightness she had never seen anywhere since. The thought of those happy but long gone years brought a tear of joy to Erika's eye.

Samantha returned with not so good news. "Well, here it is," she told Erika. "There's a train of loaded iron ore hoppers coming in from the mainland that's due to arrive any minute now. We're to take it to the Sodor Steelworks facility."

Erika was dismayed. "Sodor Steelworks? That's all the way at the end of the northwest branch in Arlesburgh."

"May I remind you that you did this to yourself Erika," Samantha challenged her.

Erika exhaled deeply and nodded. "You're right. Okay, we'll couple up as soon as it arrives and get underway."

It was well after dark by the time an exhausted Erika rolled back into Tidmouth, feeling like her side rods had warped beyond repair. After the ore train to Arlesburgh, she'd had to take an empty string of boxcars to Brendham before running light back home. All of the other engines were already asleep including Daemon and Gordon who she slipped in between as quietly as possible.

In Daemon's cab, Bruce sat in his engineer's chair strumming a guitar and singing something about betrayal and roses. As she shut Erika down for the night, Sarah looked across the cabs at Bruce and smiled as he continued to play. She'd never heard of a musician engineer before. But then, why not?

"Ahem!" A loud voice echoed in the darkness.

It was Sir Topham Hatt and he was looking up at Bruce with an expression that immediately said he wanted be alone with Erika and her crew. Bruce stopped playing and put his guitar away. He then nodded to Sarah who in turn, waved to him. With his guitar slung over his shoulder, Bruce climbed down from Daemon's cab and walked away, "sha-na-na-oh-ing" to himself as he did.

Erika listened intently as the thump of Bruce's boots faded away and Sir Topham Hatt had a "chat" with Samantha and Sarah. More of a butt chewing actually. Sir Topham Hatt reminded her extensively of the rules governing a driver checking with dispatch to make sure certain orders truly existed. For her part, Samantha made a show of apologizing for her behavior, Erika's behavior and assuring Sir Topham Hatt there would be no similar incidents in the future.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she could hear Samantha and Sarah climbing down from the cab and leaving the roundhouse while other footsteps approached her. Erika inhaled nervously. It was just her and Sir Topham Hatt now. _Guess I do have to face the music sooner or later,_ she thought.

Sir Topham Hatt looked up at Erika and regarded her with a disapproving stare for a long time. So long in fact, it began to make Erika feel uncomfortable. But at last, he broke his silence. "What did you think you were doing when you took off with the Midday Nor' Western against my direct order?"

"I thought that…" Erika suddenly found that she really didn't have anything to say. "I thought…" She gave up. "I don't know what I was thinking sir. I have no excuse for my actions."

"Good," Sir Topham Hatt said. "That's the first thing you've said all day that's actually pleased me. At least you're not trying to cover up what you did under a mountain of useless excuses." He cast a quick glance in the direction of the snoring James and folded his arms in front of his chest before going on. "Erika, you must know that I have sent engines away for doing exactly what you did today."

Erika drew in a sharp breath and her rods tensed. This was it. He was sending her back to Portland. "Yes sir," she said sadly. "I know."

"What you did today was not only inexcusable, it was borderline unforgivable," Sir Tophatt Hatt grumbled angrily. "You snarled up traffic along all sections of the main line and across several branches as well! I had to waste multiple engines on trains that should've been pulled solely by you or Gordon! I had to use the second set of express coaches to run a second section of the Midday before they were properly serviced! Everything this afternoon ran late because of your little stunt and thanks to your steaming out of Tidmouth way too early, I had to offer all those passengers you left behind a free ride to their destination!" Sir Topham Hatt's face was so red he looked like he was about to explode. "I'm in this business for a lot of reasons Erika! One of them is to make money, not refund it!"

"Yes sir," was all Erika could weakly say.

Sir Topham Hatt took a moment to calm down a bit. The last time he'd blown up at an engine like this his wife and his cardiologist had both lectured him about his stress level for hours. "And there's something else you need to consider Erika… what if there had been an opposing train coming into Tidmouth when you steamed off against that red signal like that? Hm? There would've been a collision of epic proportions and dozens of injuries… or worse."

Erika sniffed loudly and bowed her head, the tears coming freely again.

"You do not own or run this railroad Erika," Sir Topham Hatt growled. "Therefore, you do not get to decide who runs on what trains and when. That is my decision and mine alone. And it's up to my dispatchers to make sure those trains get to where they are supposed to be safely, efficiently and on schedule. Yes, things do go wrong from time to time, but what I cannot tolerate is an engine who willfully disobeys orders just to satisfy their own ego!"

Erika was crying uncontrollably. The axe was going to fall any second now.

Sir Topham Hatt made his ultimate statement. "So don't you ever… ever… deliberately defy my orders again. Do you understand me Erika?"

Was that it? He hadn't said she was being sent away. Her sadness almost didn't allow her to believe her good fortune so she took a moment to compose herself. "Yes sir. You… you're not sending me away?"

Sir Topham Hatt raised his thumb and forefinger, making sure Erika could see the tiny amount of space between them. "Came that close Erika," he confessed. "That close." He lowered his hand. "Just about any other engine would be gone for what you did. But no, you're staying here with us. I think you're a very useful engine and I think you've got a real future here Erika. The people love seeing you as do most of the other engines. But you need to check your ego at the roundhouse door every time you leave it. I respect you for what you once were Erika as does everyone else. Including Daemon. But this is not Southern California. This is the Island of Sodor. I run this railroad, so my way is the only way that matters and what I order is law. Do I make myself clear Erika?"

Erika's mood brightened a little bit. "Yes sir," she said, still not quite believing her good fortune.

"I hope so," Sir Topham Hatt warned her. "Because if something like this happens again, you'll be back in Portland so fast you'll wonder how you got there." He took a deep breath. "Now as punishment for your little jaunt today, tomorrow and for the rest of the week, you'll be working the Waste Dump with Whiff and Scruff. Daemon will take your place on the Nor' Western in you absence. Do your job, don't complain, follow orders and you'll be back on the Nor' Western next week. Understand?"

Erika nodded, though she wasn't happy about the sentence Sir Topham Hatt had passed. Still, all things considered it wasn't too bad. At least she was staying.

"All right. Don't ever do this again and we will never talk like this again." He started to leave but stopped himself and turned to face her again. "One last thing Erika; you need to get friendlier with Daemon. And I really don't care about your personal thoughts regarding his claim to be your cousin or his claim of being a GS-8 or whatever other axe you may have to grind against him. He's here and he's here to stay whether you like it or not. And he will do what I order him to do just like all the other engines. That's it. End of discussion. But even if you can't be friendly towards him, you need to at least be able to work with him. Because once the New Line is open, your schedules are going to be very closely tied together. That's all. Good night Erika."

He was gone then, leaving Erika with her thoughts.

She let out a relieved sigh. At least he hadn't sent her away. Erika knew she deserved to be sent back to Portland, but for whatever reason, he had decided to keep her. She thanked her lucky stars once more and doing so made her think of Alice for some reason. Erika recalled something Alice had once said to her not long before she was sold to the Clinchfield railroad. _You can swear at the rules, thunder your disapproval of them and do everything you can to change them, but don't you ever break them. When you do, you jeopardize yourself and all who are in your care._

Wherever Alice was now, Erika had no doubt she was not happy with what had transpired today. "I'm sorry Alice," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"You should be sorry," a voice returned.

Erika let out a startled gasp and wondered how Alice could be speaking to her before realizing the voice was male. "Gordon? You're awake?"

He opened his beautiful blue eyes and glanced over at her. "I was never asleep. I was just faking it."

Erika sighed again. She wanted to speak, but wasn't sure where to start. "Oh Gordon my love," she finally blurted out. "I really screwed up today, didn't I?"

"Yes you did," Gordon didn't disagree. "For what it's worth though, you're not alone. Sir Topham Hatt was only slightly less beastly to me."

Erika was surprised. "He yelled at you too? Why?"

"Because I didn't stop you from going off on your little half-steamed expedition," Gordon said.

That made Erika feel terrible. "Oh Gordon, I'm sorry my big, strong express."

"You don't have to apologize," Gordon said. "I deserved it. Sir Topham Hatt was right. I should've stopped you. But more importantly Erika, you should've stopped yourself. That's why I'm so upset with you right now."

Erika was hurt. "Why Gordon? What did I do to upset you?"

Gordon wasn't sure how to answer that and he just let his feelings run with it. "You let your dislike for Daemon overrule your common sense," he said. "A dislike I personally do not understand because I don't find anything wrong with him. So he talks a little funny. So what? So he says he's your cousin. So what? So he says he's a GS-8. So what? When all is said and done, does it really matter?

"But that's not what's really got me steamed," Gordon continued grumbling. "When you went off half steamed like that, you were willing to sacrifice a lot of things just so you wouldn't have to see Daemon at the head of the express. Because accept it or not, Sir Topham Hatt had every right to send you back to America and in all honesty, I'm surprised he didn't." Gordon sniffed sadly. "Among the things you were willing to sacrifice Erika… was our relationship."

Erika gasped in shock. "Gordon no," she claimed. "No, I'd never do that."

"But you would Erika," Gordon said. "And you did, whether or not you realize it. And if you were willing to sacrifice our love for someone you can't stand… I can't help but wonder what else you are willing to sacrifice our love for."

That did it. Erika started bawling. She'd never once thought about it like that and hearing it now from the engine she loved more than anything brought all of her mistakes of the day full circle. "Gordon… my love… my big, strong express… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I had no idea you'd feel that way." Looking at Gordon's depressed face, Erika wished she could turn back the clock and start the whole day all over again.

Seeing Erika cry the way she was bothered Gordon to no end. "I'm sorry my beautiful Daylight, I didn't mean to upset you like that. I just wanted to let you know what my feelings were."

Erika sobbed for a few more minutes before she composed herself. "I appreciate it Gordon my love. Can you forgive me for my stupidity?"

Gordon smiled. "Of course I do my beautiful Daylight," he said. "Tomorrow's a new day and another chance to go out and do our day's work. Another chance to show Sir Topham Hatt how useful we truly are… and how much we love each other."

Erika wished she was facing Gordon so she could kiss him. And with her fire almost out and the hostler gone for the night, there was no way she could steam onto the table and turn to face him herself. "Yes my big, strong express. Tomorrow is a new day."

"I just hope in the future you'll keep in mind exactly what you could be losing if you think doing something that silly and potentially dangerous again," Gordon said.

"I will Gordon," Erika said. "I promise."

Erika was almost asleep when she noticed Gordon was still a little restless. "What is it my big, strong express?" Something else bothering you?"

"Sort of," Gordon admitted.

"Talk to me my love," Eirka said. "What is it?"

"Well, I'm going to give you another piece of advice," Gordon said. "But whether you take this is entirely your decision."

"What?"

Gordon took a deep breath, semi-hesitant to express his beliefs to Erika. "I said, you didn't owe me an apology, but there is someone who I think you do owe an apology to."

The next morning, Erika was one of the first engines out onto the turntable. Samantha and Sarah hadn't been pleased to learn they'd all spending the next few days working the Waste Dump and pulling refuse trains. But Erika had reminded them that the punishment she'd received for the previous day's folly could've been a lot worse. They'd quit complaining after that.

Erika really wasn't looking forward to working the Waste Dump either. But she'd met Whiff once before and he was always pleasant and cheerful. Working with the little guy might actually be fun. And at least she was still here. Tonight, she would come home to Gordon… to her big, strong express. She did make a mental note though to take a trip through the wash rack before settling into the roundhouse this evening. Erika didn't think she'd be smelling too good after a day at the dump.

The turntable was just starting to pass the track Daemon was parked on and their eyes met. Until now, she never really noticed how green his eyes were. And, well… maybe his accent wasn't that bad after all. If only he'd stop calling her "lil' darlin'." She called down to the hostler. "Stop for a minute."

The hostler obeyed her. "What's wrong Miss Erika?"

Erika however, ignored the hostler and fixed her gaze squarely on Daemon. She still wasn't sure if they'd ever truly get along as she still blamed him for a lot that had happened in the past. But as her original driver, Samuel, had once told her, "the journey of a thousand miles starts with the first turn of the drivers."

"What's on yer mind lil' darlin'?" Daemon asked her.

There that phrase was again. Erika was about to blast her whistle in anger again but she remembered Sir Topham Hatt's words about checking her ego at the roundhouse door. Even so, she was still miffed about it. "I seriously doubt I'll ever accept you as my cousin or as a GS-8 class engine. I'm not even sure I'll accept you as a friend. Be that as it may, I had no right to do what I did yesterday. It was selfish, infantile and inexcusable. And for that Daemon, I sincerely offer you my humblest apologies."

Daemon smiled. "Well that's right nice of you ta say that lil' darlin'," he said. "And I surely do accept your apology. As for never bein' friend or family… well ya never know. We might just have more in common than ya think."

Erika didn't know how that was possible, but then, who did indeed know? She nodded once to Daemon and turned back to the hostler. "All right, let's go." As the turntable started moving again, she cast a quick glance at Gordon who smiled and winked at her. He approved.

"Well Erika, you ready to work the dump?"

"Not really," Erika admitted. "But at least I'm not sitting dead in a shed somewhere wondering when my next excursion is going to be. I'm here, I have a boyfriend and I'm working. I'm useful again. And boy, does it feel good."

Samantha smiled. "That's my big girl," she said. Hauling back the throttle, she added, "Let's go Erika!" And she steamed out of the yard to work her next assignment.


	3. Chapter 3: Band o' Brothers

My Darlin' Cousin, Chapter 3 – Band o' Brothers

Sitting in Tidmouth station, Erika whistled loudly. "Gordon, you're terrible," she admonished him, but with an ever so slight smile on her lips.

"Hey now," Gordon defended himself. "I freely admit I may not have a future as a stand-up comedian. But my jokes aren't _that_ bad."

Erika raised an eyebrow and presented him with her best 'you-gotta-be-kidding-me' expression. But then her smile widened and she rolled up closer to him. "No, I suppose they're not _that_ bad." She leaned forward and kissed him. "Just watch what sexist remarks you make about _my_ tender, boy."

"Yes ma'am," Gordon said quickly.

Erika started laughing.

"What's so funny now?" Gordon wondered. "The joke's over."

"You as a stand-up comedian is what's funny," Erika laughed some more. "I can just see it now…" she adopted a false, gruff sounding voice. "And now ladies and gentlemen, all the way from Sodor, here's Gordon the Express in his new career telling jokes."

"Oh you're a riot," Gordon said.

Erika snickered some more. "Can you picture just how many would buy tickets to that show?"

Gordon looked a little distressed. "Well I hope at least _one_ would."

Erika could see that maybe she'd pushed her playfulness a hair too far and she pressed her forehead against Gordon's. "For you my big, strong express… I'd buy a ticket to anything, anywhere."

"That's better," he said and gave her a kiss.

A month had gone by since Erika's little "incident" with the Nor' Western Daylight. She'd served her sentence at the dump flawlessly and as Sir Topham Hatt had promised, she was back running the Nor' Western with her beloved Gordon in only a few days. Spring Break was long over and most of the tourists had departed. But it was just the calm before the summer storm and all of the engines were keenly aware it wouldn't be long before their workloads reached an agonizing pitch again.

Though the workload had decreased a little bit, there was still plenty to keep the engines busy. Along with the normal duties, work on the New Line was going along as planned and construction materials were still flowing endlessly to the build site. And with the summer harvest about to begin, the Island of Sodor was getting ready for a surge in grain traffic coming in from the mainland.

Running in reverse, Daemon steamed by Erika and Gordon and whistled a greeting. He had just dropped the Salad Bowl Express and was headed to the yard for servicing. "Hey there lil' darlin'," he said as he went by. "You two lovebirds enjoy yer time together, ya hear?"

Erika rolled her eyes as he passed. "Ooooo," she grumbled.

"What is it?" Gordon asked her. "I thought you two were friends now."

"Hardly," Erika replied. "At the moment I'm being civil to him, but that doesn't mean I like him or that I'm friends with him."

"Oh Erika," Gordon said, clearly dismayed. "I thought we'd gotten past this."

"Well we haven't," Erika insisted. "I regret what I did when he first got here, but only for the trouble it got me in. Not because his feelings may have been hurt or anything else it might have done to him."

"Erika, I wish you would just let it go," Gordon said.

Erika look him in eyes, those big blue eyes. "I… I don't know if I ever can Gordon."

"Why?"

Erika kissed him and said. "You don't understand Gordon. You just don't understand."

Erika wasn't the only one who watched Daemon steam by. From Erika's cab, Sarah waved to Bruce as he went past. He waved to her in return and she kept watching until she could no longer see him.

Samantha got a mischievous grin on her face. "So… when are you Bruce going on your date?"

Sarah whirled to face her. "D… date? Who said anything about a date? We're not going on any date! I… I don't even like him in that way."

"Oh you are sooooooo full of it Sarah," Samantha called her out. "You've practically had your eyes glued to him since he got here! Do you really want me to tell you how many times I've seen you make googley eyes at him when you think no one's looking?"

Sarah turned almost as red as James.

Samantha laughed. "No, I didn't think so." She looked back in the general direction that Bruce had taken Daemon. "I have to admit, Bruce is very attractive. A lot of the other single women on this island think so too. So you'd better get with it Sarah, or he'll get stolen out from under you."

"Excuse me," Sarah growled. "Are you insinuating that you, me and dozens of other women are in some kind of ridiculous competition for Bruce's affection?"

"Uh… hello? Did you hit your head against the atomizer control when I wasn't looking? Of course we are Sarah. But right now it seems the local ladies are winning."

"Bruce would never go for one of the local ladies," Sarah insisted.

"Oh really?" Samantha challenged her. "Why not?"

It caught Sarah unprepared. "Well… because they're not… they're not…"

"Railroad workers?" Samantha supplied the answer Sarah couldn't seem to find.

"Yes," Sarah quickly agreed.

It was a ridiculous suggestion and they both knew it. "Is that what you're going to say to Bruce when you see one of those local ladies hanging on his arm?"

Sarah sighed in semi-depression.

"I hear the locals talking about Bruce all the time in the restaurants, the supermarket and other places Sarah," Samantha confided in her. "They don't think I hear them, but I hear them loud and clear. You'd better stake your claim soon girl or you'll lose him before you know it."

A thin jet of flame shot out from Erika's firebox door, lightly roasting the pair. She and Gordon were getting into a serious make-out session. "Hey watch it up there," Samantha yelled ahead. "Geez, if you two were human I'd tell you to go get a room!"

"Mmmmm," was all Erika managed to say as she kissed her beloved express with all the fire she could generate.

"What did she say?" Gordon whispered.

"Who cares?" Erika answered as she moved in for another kiss.

Daemon was one of the last engines to roll back into the Tidmouth roundhouse that night. There to welcome him were Thomas, Percy, James, Henry, Edward and Emily. Curiously though, Erika and Gordon had not yet returned from their day's assignments.

"Oooooo weeeee," Daemon said as he released a jet of steam from his blow off valve. "That was one tough day today. I don't know about ya'll but I'm about as sore as a bull rider at a rodeo."

The other engines chuckled. They had gotten used to Daemon's unique way of talking. Often they referred to the way he compared himself to a wide variety of things that had nothing to do with railroading as "Daemonisms."

Backing into an empty stall between James and Percy, Daemon came to a stop. "I tell you what, after sitting in a shed for twelve dad gum years I am very happy to be doin' this, no matter how hard it may be." He looked across the roundhouse at Emily. "Well good evenin' lil' darlin'," he said cheerfully to her. "Have a good day today?"

"I did Daemon," Emily answered. "But I have to ask, why do you call me lil' darlin'?"

"Aw I hope you're not gittin' yer couplers all bent outta shape over that," Daemon said. "Tarnation, my darlin' cousin gits sore enough at me when I call her that."

"Not at all," Emily assured him. "I was just curious."

Thomas agreed. "Yeah, we were all kind of wondering that."

"Well now, I call just about every lady I know lil' darlin'," Daemon admitted. "Except the really, really old and the really, really cantankerous. Them I just can "ma'am". It's my nature. Ya see, back where I come from, we all do it that way."

"Would tell us about working in Dallas," Henry asked.

"Yeah," Percy encouraged. "You've said very little about it since you arrived and we've all been curious to hear your stories about life in Texas."

Daemon felt his boiler swell a bit. He hadn't felt this much pride in years. "Well, if ya'll really wanna hear it…"

"Oh yes, please Daemon," Emily prompted him. "We'd all like to hear about it."

"All right then," Daemon said, not letting on how happy he was to talk to them about his youth. "Dallas was a beautiful place and durin' the war, it was heaven for steamers like us." He sighed happily as a flurry of fond memories flooded his mind. "Oh do I miss those days. Workin' Dallas durin' that time was really somethin'. Part of me wishes I was still there now. But anyway, after I left Pine Bluff, Arkansas…"

_February, 1943 – Dallas, Texas_

Daemon couldn't believe his eyes. What a huge place! He'd thought Pine Bluff was big, but it was nothing compared to what he was seeing now. With the tall buildings all around him, hundreds of men and women toiling about and dozens of freight and passenger trains racing off in seemingly all directions, it was enough to make a new engine dizzy. "So this is Dallas," Daemon said, still taking in his surroundings.

"Yes sir," Howard, his engineer said. "And let me be the first to welcome you to it."

"Well thank ya kindly Mister Howard," Daemon said, still not getting over the size of the city he'd been assigned to.

Howard laughed. In all of his 30 years on the railroad, he'd never seen an engine with as much wide-eyed wonder and enthusiasm as Daemon. All during the trip down from Pine Bluff, Daemon had been full of questions about so many different things. What was his job going to be? Why did he have to whistle before crossing a street? What were those cows doing out in the pasture? Why did fireman Clyde have to put sand into his firebox?

Howard had liked Daemon from the moment they'd met in Cotton Belt's Pine Bluff shops and the feeling had been mutual. And it pleased him greatly to know that he was going to command such a fine and inquisitive engine. In Howard's experience, engines who didn't ask questions didn't learn very much beyond their job. That was semi-common in switch engines but in Howard's opinion, all engines needed to be inquisitive. Too bad Cotton Belt management didn't feel the same way.

"And this is where ya from?" Daemon asked.

"Yes sir, born and raised," Howard said as he applied Daemon's brakes. They were approaching a red signal. Up ahead, a large steam engine pulling a long string of tank cars approached them head on. Even though Daemon was only a couple days out of Pine Bluff, he'd already seen and met dozens of other types of engines, male and female. But this one was the largest and oddest engine he'd seen thus far. He had ten drivers and a large cylinder of some kind placed horizontally across his smokebox.

He spoke to Daemon in a pleasant, but deep raspy voice. "Well good mornin' there youngin'. Glad ta see ya finally made it. Tarnation, we sure do need the help around here."

"I thank ya kindly sir," Daemon said. "And it's a pleasure ta meet ya sir. My name's Daemon."

The big engine laughed heartily. "Ya don't gotta call me sir. My name is Jeremiah, but everyone around here calls me Tex. I hope you'll do same."

"Sure thing Tex," Daemon said.

"Ya learn quick youngin'. That'll serve ya well around here," Tex said with a smile. "Well, I'd love ta stay and chat, but the American military needs this here oil and I intend ta give it to them on time. I'll see ya tonight in the roundhouse."

With a deep whistle, Tex started up again and ran through a left hand switch in front Daemon, allowing him to pass on Daemon's right. Daemon couldn't believe how long the string of tanks cars he was pulling was. "Dad gum," he said. "I didn't know trains could git so long."

Howard laughed. "Tex works the Permian Basin area out in west Texas," Howard explained. "Lots of oil drilling and production out there. A little potash too."

"Will I ever work the Permian Basin," Daemon wondered.

"Doubtful," Howard admitted. "You're a passenger engine, so you'll be hauling people. It's an awesome responsibility Daemon and the rules we talked about earlier take on a whole new meaning when people's lives are in your care."

"I understand Mister Howard," Daemon said.

"I'm not sure if you really do Daemon," Howard replied. "But don't worry, you will as time goes on."

The signal dropped to green. "We're clear," Clyde said as he turned up Daemon's atomizer.

Yanking back Daemon's throttle, Howard said, "Let's get you over to the roundhouse so you can meet your brothers."

Daemon was thrilled with the idea. "All right!" Moving slowly through the yards, Daemon continued to be awestruck by all the new sights, sounds and smells around him. Just ahead of him he could see a large, three story white building with four passenger trains lined up in front. Each was representative of a different railroad and they were all at least 22 coaches long. Hundreds, if not thousands of people, mainly men dressed in military uniforms, lined the platforms waiting to board.

"That's Dallas Union Terminal," Howard called out. "Get to know it well Daemon. You'll be in and out of there a lot."

"Wow," Daemon exclaimed. "I never seen so many passenger trains before!"

"Hah," Clyde snorted. "Just wait'll he gets up to St. Louis."

Steaming into the yard, Daemon weaved his way through a complex series of switches until he approached the roundhouse. He could see several other engines parked inside including three that were similar in appearance to him. Talking among themselves, they barely noticed him until he blew his whistle and announced his arrival. "Mornin' everyone," Daemon said. "Uh… my name's Daemon and I…"

"Well it's about doggone time ya showed up!" one of the other engines said. "Dad gum, we been workin' our rods off 'round here we so dang busy."

"I know," another one said. "Just once I wish supply would git here ahead o' demand."

"Aw don't listen ta them," the third one assured Daemon. "They just fussin' because we all been workin' a lotta overtime."

"Well… okay," Daemon said. "Are you guys my brothers?"

"'Course we your brothers," the third engine who was numbered 815 said. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves. My name's Daryl. This one right here next ta me, number 808… this is Dustin. And that grouchy one over yonder complainin' about his rods and with the big 800 on his ass… that's Delaney. He's the oldest one o' us."

Delaney whistled angrily. "Who in the heck are you callin' grouchy, Daryl?"

"I'm callin' you grouchy… grouchy," Daryl retorted.

"Well I'm right happy to meet ya'll," Daemon said.

"And we are very, very pleased ta meet you as well," Dustin answered for the group. "We really need the extra help around here."

"That's what Mister Howard was tellin' me," Daemon said. "What's the trouble?"

"Aw there ain't no trouble around here," Daryl assured him. "But there's a lotta trouble in other places. See, America is at war right now. And we all been pullin' a fire ant's nest worth of extra trains full of soldiers, tanks, guns, munitions, food, oil and any other dad gum thing you can think of."

"We'll give ya some details about all that a little later," Delaney said. "Right now, why don't ya roll yourself onto that there turntable and let's have a look at ya."

Daemon obliged and as the table spun slowly around, he listened to the critiques of his brothers. "Well don't you look like a field o' bluebonnets in the springtime," Delaney said approvingly. "Nice, shiny black paint and rods that'll blind anyone in the sunlight."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, but he nodded in the direction of Daemon's cylinders. "Only I wish they would've given him brass badges instead of those cheap, pot metal things. Dad gum, when the heck is the good ol' US of A gonna hurry up and win this lousy war?"

"That's up ta us and all of us steamers all across the land," Dustin lectured. "The faster we get men, weapons and supplies ta where they supposed ta be, the sooner we'll win."

"Overall, I say very nice," Delaney pronounced his final opinion. "How 'bout ya'll over yonder? Whatcha think?"

A big female Santa Fe engine with a horizontal cylinder on top of her smokebox similar to what Daemon had seen on Tex, spoke first. "Oh yes darlin'. Very, very handsome indeed."

A smaller streamlined Southern Pacific female engine wearing Daylight colors was next. "A prime example of an L1 class locomotive."

Another Southern Pacific engine was next. This one was a young male and he was colored black with a white smokebox. He was larger than the small Daylight but nowhere near as large as the female Santa Fe. "Yep, he'll do just fine around here."

Finally, a black engine about the same size as the small Daylight whose headlight sat atop his smokebox made his assessment. He wore an MKT emblem on his tender and he appeared to be the oldest engine in the roundhouse. "Probably one of the best designed and attractive steam locomotives of his type I've ever seen," he said. "He's a credit to the state of Arkansas and the people of the Cotton Belt who built him."

Daemon turned red. "Aw now, go on," he said bashfully. "Ya'll are just embarrassin' me."

The big Santa Fe engine laughed. "Nuh uh darlin', we really mean it. At least I do."

"Of course we all mean it," the MKT engine replied gruffly.

"Well then, I thank ya'll kindly," Daemon said.

The only open stall in the roundhouse was between the two ladies and Daemon felt a twinge of embarrassment as he rolled back to a stop in between them. The big Santa Fe engine took the opportunity to formally introduce herself. "My name's Maria," she said. "Most around here call me Madame Queen. But you can call me Maria if you like."

Delaney rolled his eyes. "Aw there she goes again with that danged title o' hers."

"What was that Delaney?" Maria asked him.

"Nothin'… Madame Queen," he responded sarcastically.

Maria turned back to Daemon. "Some of the engines around here don't like the fact that I'm called that," she said.

"Why not?" Daemon replied. "I think it sounds kinda nice."

"Why thank you Daemon," Maria smiled pleasantly.

The small Southern Pacific Daylight cleared her throat and got Daemon's attention. "And you can call me Trina," she said. "I'm a P-14 class engine and I run the Sunbeam between here and Houston. That's south of here.

"Git ta know her schedule well," Dustin said to Daemon. "It's mighty important for the work you'll be doin'."

"Well, all right," Daemon said and he turned to Maria. "Is your schedule as important ta me as Trina's apparently is?"

"Oh no, hon," Maria said. "I'm a freight engine. I work all over the great state of Texas."

"Which she never gets tired of reminding us," Trina said dryly.

If Trina was hoping her comment would be missed by Maria, she was wrong. "At least it beats working the same line day after day after day."

The black Southern Pacific engine decided to intervene before the ladies started arguing with each other. "Nice to meet you Daemon. I'm Leo. I'm also a freight engine. Like Maria there, I go all kinds of places, most of which Maria _hasn't_ been to yet."

"Hmph," Maria snorted.

"And I'm Moses," the old MKT engine said. "But you can call me Moe for short. I run the Texas Special between San Antonio and St. Louis with my brothers. But every so often, they give me a couple days off to rest and relax and I prefer to do that here."

"Well I sure am pleased ta meet all of ya," Daemon said. "And I look forward to gittin' started on whatever it is I'm supposed ta be doin' around here." A look of embarrassment came across his features. "Uh, what exactly am I supposed ta be doin' around here?"

His three brothers chuckled and Daryl explained. "Boy Cotton Belt management didn't tell you anythin' did they? All right, your driver may have already explained this ta ya, but you a passenger engine. You'll be haulin' people an lemme tell ya… ain't no greater responsibility for an engine than ta be haulin' people."

"That's right," Dustin agreed. "Freight is important too because it generates more money. But passenger service is where the prestige is at. You'll be pullin' the Mornin' Star. That's Cotton Belt's premier, grade A, number one passenger train. It runs daily between here and St. Louis."

Daemon was in awe that he was being given such awesome responsibility. "Well shut my stack… I'm pullin' the best passenger train on the line?"

"Yup," Dustin confirmed. "Right now they runnin' the Mornin' Star in two sections because it's that danged busy. Tomorrow you'll be pullin' the early section which follows the schedule that the Mornin' Star had before all this dad gum war stuff started happenin'. It leaves just after sunrise. Daryl will be followin' ya couple hours later on the second section."

Delaney picked up the conversation. "I'll be double headin' with ya tomorrow so you can git familiar with the route you'll be runnin'. After that, ya on yer own."

"Sounds good ta me," Dameon said.

"One other thing dear brother," Delaney added. "The Mornin' Star, especially the early one, runs a very tight schedule. We interchange with Miss Scarlett and her Tennessean in Memphis and the Banner Blue in St. Louis. On the return trip, we again interchange with the Tennessean in Memphis and with Miss Trina and her Sunbeam right here in Dallas. The bottom line is you cannot be late."

"Exactly," Daryl agreed. "Bein' on time is top priority. There are a lot of people countin' on makin' those connections ta other trains. And if you just five minutes late, connections are gonna be missed and there's gonna be a lotta unhappy people standin' on them platforms."

"I understand," Daemon said proudly. "So who is Miss Scarlett?"

"Aw she's a right fine young lady Daemon," Dustin said, turning ever so slightly red at the mention of her name. "And a real pleasure to git ta know. She's probably the finest lookin' lady I ever seen."

"Yeah," Dustin said wistfully. "She sure is purty."

"I agree with my brothers, but don't let the anticipation o' meetin' a beautiful gal distract ya," Delaney warned. "Remember… don't be late."

"Yes sir," Daemon insisted. "Don't be late."

_Island of Sodor – Present Day_

All of the engines in the Tidmouth shed listened intently as Daemon continued his tale. "So did you meet Miss Scarlett?" Percy wondered.

"Oh yeah," Daemon answered. "And Dustin was right about her. She sure was purty. Possibly even purttier than my cousin and trust me, they don't come much purttier than her." He suddenly got a little worried about what he'd just said. "Don't let Erika know I said that though. Tarnation, she'd give me what for if she knew I thought any engine out there was purttier than her."

The other engines laughed.

"That's why she has such a rivalry with Madison," Daemon said.

"Who's Madison?" Thomas asked.

"Well…" Daemon began.

"Oh please, tell us about Madison some other time," Emily said. "I'm more interested in hearing about your first day on the job in Dallas. It sounded like you wanted to say something more about it."

The other engines agreed they wanted to hear more about Dallas and Damon's first day on the job than they did about whoever Madison was.

"Well truth be told lil' darlin', I did," Daemon admitted.

"Well go on then," Edward encouraged.

"Yeah, don't keep us all in suspense," James agreed.

"Well, after Delaney and Daryl practically stoked my firebox with the notion that being on time was top priority, I didn't question them," Daemon said. "Lookin' back, I most definitely should have. Because then I might not have learned the hard way what the most important lesson about pullin' passenger trains is."

_February, 1943 – Dallas, Texas_

On his first day of work for the Cotton Belt, Daemon was up before the sun as his fireman began his work. Ensuring that there was enough residual water in Daemon's boiler and that his tender was topped off, Clyde pulled the firing valve. With a thunderous bang and a flare of sooty flame issuing from Daemon's firebox, the main burner lit and began to warm his crownsheet.

While Clyde busied himself with the time honored ritual of "oiling around", Howard lined the turntable for Daemon to get out. As he completed the maneuver and climbed up into Daemon's cab, he asked, "Well Daemon, you ready for your first day of work?"

"Oh yeah Mister Howard," Daemon said excitedly. "I can't wait ta git goin'. And don't ya worry none at all Mister Howard. I'll git us into St. Louis on time."

"I know you will Daemon," Howard said, giving his engine an affectionate pat. Throttling up out of the roundhouse, Howard ran Daemon onto the main line and then reversed back towards Dallas Union Terminal. Delaney was parked on the same track waiting for the coaches of the Morning Star to arrive. Frank, Delaney's fireman, was on the ground signaling Daemon to back up slowly until he and Delaney had safely coupled together.

"All right little brother," Delaney announced. "Now we just sit here an' wait until Wayne brings us our train."

"Wayne?" Daemon inquired. "Who's Wayne?"

As if on cue, a little Baldwin DS-4-4-1000 switcher rumbled up next to Daemon on the left. He was black in color save for some orange safety stripes on his front and rear and he wore a nervous expression on his face. "Why that would be me," he said timidly. "I'm Wayne. You must be the new engine, Daemon?"

"Why yes I am," Daemon said proudly. "And it's a right pleasure ta meet ya Wayne."

"Oh well, I… I thank you for that Dameon," Wayne replied. "I work the terminal here, so I'll be bringing you your coaches whenever you need them. Like now for instance." The signal ahead of him changed from red to green. "Whoop, that's for me," Wayne said. "I'll be back very soon with your train."

"All right then," Daemon smiled. "Ya have a good day now, okay?"

"And the same to you Daemon," Wayne returned as he rumbled towards the coach yard.

"He seems like a friendly sort," Daemon observed.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's a good boy," Delaney agreed. "A little bit of a Nervous Nellie though. And he's one o' them new-fangled diesels they keep talkin' about. Supposed ta be the wave of railroadin's future I guess. I don't see how though. Ain't no good for nothin' except shuntin' cars from here to yonder."

"Hmmm," was all Daemon added to the conversation and promptly let the issue drop.

Moments later, Wayne returned with the Morning Star consist: fifteen heavyweight cars colored Pullman green including an R.P.O., a baggage car, a parlor lounge, a dining car, an assortment of chair coaches and sleeper cars and on the end, an observation car with a porch at the rear. "This is the Mornin' Star? Oh it's beautiful," Daemon said happily, thinking that there couldn't be a more beautiful looking train anywhere else. "Oh I can't wait ta git goin'."

"Well don't git too anxious now," Delaney cautioned him. "We gotta wait for everyone to board."

Before Daemon could answer, Frank lined a switch and motioned for the pair to move back. With three short whistle blasts, Daemon and Delaney obliged. Rolling back through the switch, they coupled on to the train just as the conductor began allowing passengers to board.

"Now ya see that red light just ahead o' ya there?" Delaney asked Daemon.

"Yeah, I see it," Daemon confirmed.

"All right now little brother, this is real important," Delaney told him. "Ya do not leave this station until that light is green. Even if the conductor shouts 'all aboard,' if that light is red, your drivers stays put. Understand?"

"That's right Daemon," Howard agreed. "If you leave against that signal, you could run right into another train and cause a huge mess. We don't want that now, do we?"

"No sir Mister Howard," Daemon agreed. "Do not leave until that signal is green. I got it."

"Good," Delaney smiled. "And remember… be on time."

"And be on time," Daemon reiterated. "Don't ya'll worry none. We'll be where we supposed ta be, when we supposed to be there. And we'll have a great day doin' it."

"I look forward ta it little brother," Delaney replied with a smile.

A short time later, just as the sun was starting to rise, the Morning Star was loaded and ready to depart. "Aaaaaaaall aboard!" called the conductor. An instant later, the signal ahead of Daemon turned green, signaling all was clear and the Morning Star could depart.

Howard gave two sharp tugs on Daemon's whistle cord and pulled back Daemon's throttle. "Here we go Daemon."

"St. Louis, here we come!" Daemon shouted happily as he and Delaney steamed out of the station.

_Island of Sodor – Present Day_

"So is that the most important lesson about running passenger trains?" Percy wondered. "Always waiting for the signal to be green before leaving the station?"

"Well that is a very important lesson ta be sure," Daemon admitted. "But naw, it ain't the absolute most important one. Although if ya think about it, never leavin' before bein' given a clear signal is related to the most important lesson."

"Well then what is the most important lesson," Thomas wondered.

"Don't keep us in suspense," Emily encouraged.

"Now be patient please," Daemon said. "I'm gittin' ta it. But in order for ya ta understand how I learned it, ya gotta understand what my first day on the job was like. Now then we was makin' good time as we approached Memphis…"

_February, 1943 – Northbound near Memphis, Tennessee_

Puffing up a long grade, Daemon and Delaney kept the Morning Star going at a good pace. Daemon was enjoying the trip immensely and all the new sights and sounds along the tracks. A small boy and his father waved to him as they tended a plot of farmland and Daemon gave them a return greeting on his whistle.

"You're doing just fine Daemon," Howard called out. "We ought to make Memphis a few minutes ahead of schedule."

Daemon couldn't have been happier. So far his first day on the job was going better than he had anticipated. Clyde was keeping his fire burning hot and strong and he'd taken all of Howard's lessons such about whistling for road crossings and reading signals correctly to heart. For the most part, the track was comfortable and smooth riding. So much so that Delaney had actually dozed off for a few minutes back near Shreveport, Louisiana. Daemon was having a blast.

Near the top of the grade though, Daemon suddenly felt something tugging against him as the rounded a curve. Delaney had put on his brakes. "Whatcha brakin' for?" Daemon called back.

"Huh?" Delaney asked in return. "Oh… uh… there's a… there's a sidin' just after this curve here. I uh… I always like ta slow down a bit in case we git put on it. Comes up kinda sudden. Know what I mean?"

Sure enough, the siding Delaney was talking about came up just after Daemon finished rounding the curve. It came up so quick that Daemon almost missed it. Fortunately, the Morning Star was not sent into it and they passed over the switch and under a signal bridge without incident.

"Tarnation," Daemon commented. "I sees what ya mean about it comin' up so fast."

Delaney released his brakes. "Yeah. So just make sure ya ain't goin' too fast when ya approach it and you'll be fine."

A short while later, Daemon and Delaney arrived in Memphis with the Morning Star and parked next to a bright green train with gold lettering. The platform then became a flurry of activity as hundreds of people got off the Morning Star and boarded the bright green train and vice versa.

"That's the Tennessean," Delaney told Deamon. "That's the train you here to interchange with. Don't see Miss Scarlett here though. Probably down in the yard gittin' serviced." 

Another group of men moved forward and began to uncouple Daemon and Delaney from the Morning Star. Daemon was scared they'd done something wrong. "What's goin' on Delaney? Why are they takin' us off the train?"

"Aw don't git water in yer cylinders. They takin' us off for the same reason Miss Scarlett ain't here," Delaney assured him. "We need servicin'. Grease, fuel, water… the whole bit. They gonna run us down ta the yard ta git takin' care of."

"That's right Daemon," Howard told him. "Once we're done, we'll come on back and continue onward to St. Louis."

"We didn't do nothin' wrong did we?" Daemon asked with a concerned tone.

Howard and Clyde both laughed. "No, not all Daemon," Howard assured him. "This is routine. You'll always get serviced in Memphis."

"Oh," Daemon replied. "Well okay then."

Down in the engine yard, Daemon and Delaney pulled up to the water tank and Clyde climbed on top of Daemon's tender. Maneuvering the spout into the fill hatch, he began to replenish Daemon's water supply. As Daemon waited for the process to be finished, Delaney spotted something ahead of them. "Oh boy," he said excitedly. "Here she comes."

Running in reverse, a bright green engine with a white smokebox and that same bizarre looking water heater that Tex and Maria had on their smokeboxes arrived on the other side of the water tank and began filling up. Noticing that the engine next to her was one she'd never met before, she introduced herself. "Well hello there kind sir," she said in pleasant southern belle accent. "I don't recall ever seeing you here before."

Daemon almost couldn't speak. Was this the Miss Scarlett his brothers had been talking about? If so, they'd been right. She was very pretty indeed. "Well shucks lil' darlin'," he said with a twinge of embarrassment. "That's because I ain't never been here before. It's my first day on the job."

Scarlett laughed. "Lil' darlin'? Do you call all the girls you meet lil' darlin' good sir?"

"Naw," Daemon insisted. "Only the purty ones."

Behind him, Delaney winced. "Oooooo."

Scarlett laughed again. "Oh now kind sir, are sure you're not just trying to flatter me?"

"Nuh uh ma'am," Daemon assured her. "You got ta be the purttiest engine I ever seen in my life."

And again Scarlett laughed at Daemon's attempts to be charming. He wasn't anywhere near as refined as the other locomotives she was used to in Birmingham and Atlanta. But despite his obvious awkwardness, there was indeed a certain charm to him and she liked it. "Well I declare I think I like lil' darlin' better than ma'am, Mister…"

"Oh, uh, dangnation where are my manners? My name is Daemon… lil' darlin'."

"Well Mister Daemon kind sir," Scarlett said. "Most call me Miss Scarlett. But I declare that you can just call me Scarlett if you like."

"Why I'd like that very much," Daemon replied. "Thank ya Scarlett. And you can just call me Daemon if ya like."

"Why thank you Daemon," Scarlett answered him pleasantly. "I'd like that." Her fireman finished topping off her tender and raised the water pipe. "Well Daemon, I guess that means it time for this little southern belle to get on her way. But I declare I look forward to seeing you again very soon Daemon."

Daemon blushed. "Aw shucks, I look forward to seein' ya again real soon too… lil' darlin' Scarlett."

Once again, Scarlett laughed. "See you later." With a wink and smile, she steamed away back towards the station to be joined to the Tennessean.

Behind him, Delaney laughed.

"What in tarnation is so danged funny?" Daemon demanded.

"You are little brother," Delaney answered. "Ain't seen nobody git Miss Scarlett's fire that stoked before. I think she likes ya."

"Aw go on," Daemon said. "She's just bein' friendly."

Delaney laughed. "Ha. Trust me on this little brother. I seen Scarlett be friendly before. I ain't never seen her be _that_ friendly ta no one. Ya hear me? Be careful little brother. Don't git yourself hurt and don't hurt her neither."

"I won't."

_Island of Sodor – Present Day_

"So what happened between you and Scarlett?" Henry asked.

"Oh that's a whole other story," Daemon said. "And one I'd rather not git in ta right now. It's kind of an emotional and painful subject for me. For now, I'll just say that, despite my assurances to Delaney, we both got hurt real bad."

Daemon quickly moved on before any of the other engines could inquire further. "We made St. Louis in good time that day and interchanged with the Banner Blue on schedule. Dad gum, the Wabash 4-8-2 that was in charge o' that train had ta be the most ornery locomotive I ever met. But at least he did his job.

"But even though we made it ta St. Louis in good time it was there that things started ta go wrong. The weather had been real nice all the way from Dallas ta Memphis. But once we got north o' there it started ta get cold. And by the time was actually arrived in St. Louis, it was windy and snowy ta boot. That caused snow to accumulate on the switch points in front of the station and they had ta send track gangs out ta melt the snow. Problem was, the water that resulted from the melting snow would just refreeze and turn ta ice which made the switch points almost impossible ta move.

"Eventually, they had ta melt the snow and ice on the switches one train at a time so that the snow wouldn't have a chance ta refreeze and make the problem worse. The bottom line is that we was an hour and a half late leaving St. Louis that first day. But I knew that if I really pushed it, I could still make it back ta Memphis on time and see Scarlett arrive with the inbound Tennessean. That's what I was supposed to do accordin' ta the schedule anyway. But as it turned out, really pushin' it was the worst thing I coulda done."

_February, 1943 – Southbound nearing Memphis, Tennessee_

Running as fast as he could, Daemon charged through the storm, determined to get back to Memphis on time. But with the snow and wind right in his face, he could barely see the tracks ahead of him. He kept on going anyway. Being on time was top priority and this was his first day on the job. He didn't want his first day to be marred with a tardy arrival. He had to get back to Memphis on time. Had to.

He wasn't going to let the unfortunate circumstances back in St. Louis ruin an otherwise perfect day. He didn't want the Cotton Belt bosses to become angry with him and start thinking they'd built a useless engine. All the people in the coaches behind him had to be someplace. And they didn't expect to arrive late. They had connections to make or other people to see. He couldn't let them down.

So far, Howard was content to let Daemon run all out, but he was starting to get concerned. The weather had deteriorated even further since leaving St. Louis and even Howard was having trouble seeing the tracks ahead. Yet upon checking his pocket watch, he found they'd made up nearly all the time they'd lost leaving St. Louis. That was good. They were only ten or so minutes outside of Memphis and once they got south of there, he'd reel Daemon in a bit and get him back to a more normal running condition.

Behind Daemon, Delaney was growing increasingly worried at Daemon's speed. He knew the track could take the fast pace that Daemon was setting and he, himself, had gone all out in this area a few times in the past. But that had been in the summertime when the weather was perfect. Not now in the middle of a blizzard. Yet Daemon continued on as fast as his drivers would carry him.

"Look out Daemon!" Howard shouted as he slammed Daemon's throttle closed and set the emergency brakes.

They'd flashed by a red over yellow signal that Daemon had missed because of the wind and snow. And then he saw the approaching switch ahead. It was lined for the siding and Daemon was going way too fast to go through the switch safely. His brake shoes began grinding against his drivers in a desperate attempt to stop. Behind him, Delaney locked up his brakes too in desperate, last ditch attempt to stop the inevitable wreck.

The horrifying screech of metal against metal alarmed the passengers. Many of them began screaming and bracing themselves for the impact that they were sure was only seconds away. Sparks and smoke billowed out from Daemon and Delaney's wheels from the heat generated by the sudden and hard brake application.

"Everyone, please remain calm," the conductor shouted to the terrified passengers, though he too was wondering when the collision was going to come. The smoke coming off the drivers was obscuring the windows and it was impossible to see what disaster was looming ahead of them.

With the screeching of the brakes sounding like a death knell in his ears, Delaney shouted, "Hold on ta it Daemon! Hold on ta it!"

Holding the mainline ahead of them was Moses with the Texas Special. The sight of Daemon and Delaney braking hard as they hurtled towards him terrified the old engine. He closed his eyes and braced himself, afraid Daemon would jump the switch and careen into him. _You've lived a good life old boy,_ he told himself.

The switch loomed like a death trap ahead of them as Daemon and Delaney continued to do everything in their power to stop. Daemon saw the Texas Special's head brakeman leap away from the switch stand, fearing a catastrophe. Groaning painfully and gritting his teeth as his drivers heated up to almost unbearable, Daemon desperately fought the momentum that continued carrying him forward at a frightening rate.

He hit the switch and shot fast into the siding, turning hard again as the track curved back to parallel the main. Daemon cried out in agony as his wheel flanges squealed loudly against the rails. It produced a new shower of sparks from the tracks that flew in all directions. By now people in the train were starting to panic as they began feeling the hard jolts of the cars slamming through the switch and into the siding. The horrendous scream of the brakes and endless sparks that turned evening into morning seemed like they would go on forever.

And then it was over. There was no crash. No wreck.

When the collision that he was expecting didn't come, Moses cautiously opened one eye. Daemon and Delaney were beside him with half the Morning Star on the siding and the other half still on the main line. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Whew," he said in relief. His concern then turned to Daemon and Delaney. "You youngsters all right?"

"I… I think so," Daemon said. "Dangnation, my drivers hurt though. Delaney, you okay back there?"

"Yeah I'm all right," Delaney assured him. "My drivers feel like they just run directly over the ballast though."

Breathing heavily from panic, exertion and relief, Howard looked out the cab window back down the train and saw the situation they were in and then back at Clyde. "You all right there Clyde?"

Clyde nervously nodded, having just had the wits scared out of him. "Yeah I uh… I think so."

"Good," Howard said. "Hold on there, Moses," he called out, still somewhat shaken by the experience himself. "We'll get clear of you."

"I thank you for that sir," Moses said, clearly relieved.

Opening Daemon's throttle just a touch, Howard gently coaxed the big engine forward. Daemon's extremely hot drivers throbbed with pain for every inch they moved. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Daemon complained as he began to very, very slowly move forward again. His drivers and rods felt like they were on fire. And they nearly were.

"Sorry big guy," Howard apologized. "But we got to get to get clear of Moses here."

With that done, Moses thanked Howard for getting clear and expressed his relief to Daemon and Delaney that they hadn't collided with him. He then started on his way again, much to the relief of the passengers of the Morning Star and the Texas Special as well as the terrified brakeman that had leaped away from switch stand moments ago. Even though Daemon and Delaney's wheels hadn't cooled off much by that time, Daemon was ready to continue on. "We can go whenever ya ready Mister Howard," he assured his driver.

"I'm sorry Daemon, but after that little episode we're not going anywhere," Howard spoke very frankly.

Daemon was alarmed. If they didn't leave right now, there was no way they'd get to Memphis on time. "But why Mister Howard? I didn't wreck or derail and Memphis is only a short distance ahead. I can make it just fine."

"Maintenance will have to be the judge of that Daemon," Howard told him. "Right now, you're wheels are too hot, you're brakes might be damaged, and you might have damaged your wheel flanges tearing through that siding like that. Delaney too. I'm sorry Daemon but until maintenance arrives and gives you both a thorough inspection and all clear, we're not going anywhere."

Daemon was devastated. His first day on the job and he'd already broken the cardinal rule. Don't be late. Now not only was he going to get into Memphis late, if he was too badly damaged, he might not get into Memphis at all today.

Sometime later, a maintenance crew arrived and performed an inspection on both Daemon and Delaney. Fortunately, the damage done to both engines was minimal. Nothing that couldn't wait to be fixed until they returned to Dallas. Even so, by the time maintenance had completed their inspections and allowed the Morning Star to continue on, Daemon arrived in Memphis later than he had been leaving St. Louis. Most of the passengers that boarded were grumbling because of how late the train was and the unbelievable scare they'd received which made Daemon feel even worse.

He wanted to apologize to Scarlett for being so late, but she was nowhere to be seen. She was probably at the Memphis roundhouse resting for the night. Daemon and Delaney barely had enough time to take on fuel and water and even then they only took on what was absolutely necessary for the rest of the trip back to Dallas. So Daemon didn't even have the chance to look for her.

He spoke hardly a word the rest of the trip, finally arriving back in Dallas that night well after dark. Trina was already long gone with the evening's Sunbeam bound for Houston and management from both the Cotton Belt and the Southern pacific were discussing whether to send a second section now or wait until morning. In the end, they opted to wait.

After topping off with fuel and water for the next day, Daemon returned to the round house where most of the other engines were already fast asleep. Only Jeremiah greeted him as he arrived. "Heard ya had a little incident out on the line today."

"Yeah," Daemon said unhappily as he parked in an empty stall wearing a face longer than the last day of school. "Ya could say that."

"Don't let it git ya down too much," Jeremiah encouraged. "We all make mistakes from time to time. It's like I always say, if you're not making mistakes, you're not learning anything."

"Easy for you ta say," Daemon replied.

Howard climbed down and walked up to Daemon's face. Knowing how upset Daemon was, he did his best to calm his new engine down. "Cheer up Daemon," he encouraged. "It wasn't that bad. Tomorrow is a new day."

"I know," Daemon said quietly. "Dad gum, I'm real sorry Mister Howard. I didn't mean ta make us so danged late."

"I know you didn't Daemon," Howard answered. "Cotton Belt knows that too."

"They're not upset at me?" Daemon asked hopefully.

"Well, maybe they are a little bit," Howard confessed. "But considering what the outcome of your little incident today could've been, they're more relieved that you're okay and the passengers are safe as well."

"Tarnation," Daemon cursed. "I don't understand how it all happened Mister Howard. I mean, everyone kept sayin' ta me that bein' on time was top priority. All I was tryin' ta do was be on time like everyone has said I needed ta be."

"Yes that's true Daemon, but at what expense?" Howard put the question directly to him.

Daemon was confused and caught off guard by the question. "What do ya mean Mister Howard?"

"Daemon, being on time is very important true enough," Howard said. "But never is it ever to be the absolute top priority in your life. Being on time never has been your absolute top priority and it never will be."

Daemon was even more confused. "Well then, I don't understand Mister Howard. If bein' on time ain't my top priority, what is?"

Howard sighed. "This is what I meant this morning when I said I wasn't sure if you truly understood the rules and the implications they have when people's lives are in your care," he said gently. "It's because your first priority Daemon is to the safety of those people riding in the coaches behind you. And your own safety is your next priority. It's always been that way Daemon and far too often have I seen young engines such as yourself fail to learn that truth until they cause an incident. Or worse, an accident. For a handful of young engines, they never had the opportunity to learn the lesson a second time. One screw up and they ended up in the scrap yard."

Daemon tried to understand what Howard was telling him. "I'm still not sure I quite git what yer sayin' Mister Howard," he confessed.

Howard smiled. The fact that Daemon confessed he didn't understand was enough to tell him then engine was paying attention. "Daemon, yes people expect to get where they're going on time. But they also expect to get there safely and without having the living wits scared out of them as happened today."

"He's right Daemon," another voice said. Delaney appeared and parked on the turntable in front of them. "The passengers is always the number one priority." He took a deep breath. "Ya screwed up today Daemon. But yer lucky it all turned out as good as it did. 'Cause trust me, it coulda been a heck of a lot worse. Think for a second about what could've happened had you jumped that switch today Daemon. You would've gone careening head-on into Moses. You both would've been severely damaged and possibly ended up in the scrap yard. I imagine, I wouldn't have fared too well neither. But the worst thing is that many people would've been hurt as well."

"Gosh dang it," Daemon said. "I'm sorry Delaney. I'm sorry I let ya down."

"You don't have ta apologize Daemon," Delaney told him. "It's me who has ta apologize for lettin' you down."

Daemon wasn't quite sure he'd heard Delaney correctly. "Come again?"

"Yes ya screwed up today Daemon, but I don't blame ya for it," Delaney revealed. "I blame myself for that because I failed ta tell ya ta be safe above all else. I can assure ya that it is far better ta arrive late than not ta arrive at all because ya done wrecked." He gestured towards the other engines snoring peacefully. "That's somethin' that not every one of these yahoos in this here roundhouse has learned yet. But I know it all too well. And believe me, I wish I didn't. Do ya remember earlier today when I braked near that sidin' at the top of the grade?"

"Sure I do," Daemon nodded.

"Well the reasons I gave ya for brakin' on that curve are more or less true. But they ain't the whole truth." Delaney took a deep breath and began his story. "About twelve years ago, I was runnin' the Lone Star from here ta Memphis along the same route we was on today. Goin' north outta Shreveport some dad gum kids decided ta have what they thought was gonna be a little bit a fun and remove a section o' rail from the track. They figured they'd see some little train git derailed and the mess it would cause.

"Well, maintenance found the problem section o' track and the kids responsible before it was ever really a danger," Delaney continued. "But they had ta repair the track which delayed me gittin' outta Shreveport by nearly a hour. I was determined to make up the time and I was doin' pretty good too. But then I approached that sidin' at the top o' that grade. I was goin' so fast that by the time I saw the signal warnin' me that I was headin' into the sidin', there was no way I could slow down in time.

"I made it through the switch okay," Delaney went on. "But when the track curved again ta run parallel ta the main, I didn't. Wheel flanges on my front truck sheared clean off and I went skippin' right off the rails. Got a little too friendly with that signal gantry we passed under as a result. But that wasn't the worst of it. Even though I'd come ta a sudden stop, my coaches didn't. They accordioned into one another and log jammed against me and the gantry. Finally the gantry gave way and collapsed down on top of me and several of my coaches.

"By the time it was over, myself and my coaches was all lined perpendicular to the tracks," Delaney said. "Thank heavens the opposin' train hadn't arrived yet and was able ta stop well before it got close ta me. Even so, while the physical damage was bad enough, the most devastatin' thing was that a lot o' people was hurt in that wreck. Even though I was crunched up against that signal gantry, I could still here the painful and anguished cries and screams of those people that I hurt. Cries and screams that I still hear ta this day. Sometimes I hear them in my sleep. Other times I hear them when I approach that sidin'. It haunts me Daemon and it will haunt me ta the day they send me ta the scrap yard.

"That's why I blame myself for what happened today Daemon," Delaney concluded. "The same thing could've happened ta you today. A lot o' people could've been hurt. And trust me, bein' haunted like that is somethin' I wouldn't wish on any engine. So do yer job, do it well, but above all do it safely. Ya do that, and you'll never have ta deal with what I'm forced to deal with every time I approach that sidin'. Because even if ya do wreck someday, you'll sleep better knowin' that it wasn't caused by ya doin' somethin' stupid or careless. Ya understand Daemon?"

Daemon nodded. "Yeah Delaney. I do."

"Good," Delaney replied. He waited to back into an empty stall before going on. "Now git ya some sleep. Like Mister Howard said, tomorrow's a new day. And with each new day comes new challenges and tasks."

"That's right Daemon," Howard agreed. "And as long you do your job, be safe and follow the rules, I will always be proud to sit at your throttle Daemon."

For the first time since the incident, Daemon smiled. "That's right nice ta hear Mister Howard. Thanks."

"You're welcome Daemon."

_Island of Sodor – Present Day_

All of the other engines in the Tidmouth roundhouse quietly considered Daemon's story.

"You know, I never thought of it that way before," James confessed. "But it's true. Any engine who pulls any kind of passenger train has an awesome responsibility to the people who travel on it."

"Indeed," Thomas agreed. "Whether it's two coaches like me or a whole express train like Gordon and Erika."

"Yes indeed," Daemon agreed. "And it's a lesson I always tried to pass on ta other engines who came ta Dallas after me. Some of them learned and some of them didn't." He thought of Thibodeaux and Boudreaux, the PA-1 diesels that had replaced him on the Morning Star in the early 1950s. That was a pair that had barely learned how to back out of a roundhouse much less properly pull a passenger train. "Those that learned had great careers with the Cotton Belt and those that didn't had their careers cut short."

Emily had a question for Daemon. "Were you ever in another incident like that?"

"Naw," Daemon replied. "Ta this day, I ain't never had another incident as bad as that one was and I hope I never do. Oh I still try my hardest ta be on time. But if I don't feel safe pushin' it, I don't. Because I never want ta experience what it was that Delaney did. I don't want ta be haunted like he was. It scares me. An' while that might make me a bit more cautious and maybe even a bit of a 'fraidy-cat in the eyes o' some engines, I really don't care. Because like Delaney told me, it's better ta arrive late than not at all because ya wrecked."

Henry agreed. "That it is Daemon. That it is."


	4. Chapter 4: A Stinky Situation

My Darlin' Cousin, Chapter 4 – A Stinky Situation

Summer was just around the corner and all the engines on the Island of Sodor were getting themselves ready for what was promising to be a busy season. With the warmer weather just getting started, construction on the New Line had sped up considerably as well the rebuilding of the engine facilities in Vicarstown. The summer tourist season was just getting underway and while Sir Topham Hatt had yet to reinstate the Midday Nor' Western Daylight, he knew that moment would come in the next few weeks.

The sun was almost up as Sarah arrived for work one morning at the Tidmouth roundhouse. Samantha had decided the previous evening that in order to keep all of her required skills sharp, she would fire Erika today. Sarah was excited about this because whenever Samantha took a turn in the fireman's seat it meant that she would be at Erika's throttle. Sarah had already received some informal training on how to drive steam engines from Samantha and she relished every opportunity that she got to put those lessons into practice.

Sarah was just about to climb into Erika's cab and had begun tying her hair back behind her head, when a noise behind her got her attention. A large dark red Dodge Ram pickup truck pulled up to the roundhouse and Bruce got out, slapping his tan beret on his head as he did. Sarah stood with her eyes fixed on him as he pulled his guitar case out of the back, slung it over his shoulder and began walking towards her. "G… good morning Bruce," she said nervously.

"Good morning Sarah," he responded.

"How was your evening last night?"

"You know exactly how my evening was last night," Bruce told her.

"What makes you say that?" Sarah wondered innocently.

Bruce laughed and presented her with his best 'You-Gotta-be-Kidding-Me' expression. "Really Sarah? If you're going to try and hide yourself in a crowd, you might want to be a little less obvious about it. But then, the drunken idiot who dumped his whiskey on your shoes last night and then made the most awkward come-on in history towards you, didn't help your cause much." He then spoke to her in an intoxicated tone. "Hello there. My name's John. Ever dated a bathroom?" Laughing still, Bruce headed over towards Daemon. 

Sarah however, turned bright red. Bruce had seen her. The previous night she'd gone to Knapford and a local bar for a couple of drinks and a sampling of what was supposed to be the best fish and chips in town. She'd been startled to see Bruce there as well, enjoying a few drinks and entertaining the various patrons on an old piano that had been in a corner.

All evening, she'd done her best to avoid him and she thought she'd been successful at it too. That was until that drunken moron had spilled his drink all over her and then tried to pick her up in exactly the fashion as Bruce had outlined. It had been one of the most mortifying experiences of her life and she'd hauled off and slapped the fool so hard, she'd split his lip before marching out of the bar in a swirl of skirts and heels. She silently prayed Bruce hadn't witnessed the scene.

_Well, those hopes are shot,_ Sarah thought as she climbed into Erika's cab. She could see that Samantha was desperately trying to keep a straight face. Sarah rolled her eyes. _Might as well get it over with._ "All right, out with it," she said. "What did you hear?"

Samantha burst out laughing and nearly fell out of her seat. "Not enough of what I wanted to hear and more than I should have." She laughed uncontrollably for several minutes before finally being able to speak again. "My name is John," she said in a tone similar to what Bruce had echoed. "Have you ever dated a toilet before? That is too good Sarah. More than a fair number of men have irritated me with their lousy come-ons in my time, but that one takes the cake. It has to be the worst I've ever heard."

"You don't understand," Sarah said hotly. "The evening was still young and I had just worked up the nerve to go talk to Bruce on a more… personal level shall we say? It was supposed to be the start of what I was hoping would be a lovely evening between him and me." She turned her gaze out of the cab, staring at nothing in particular. "That drunken idiot ruined it," she said quietly. "He ruined everything. Because it was at that moment that he blundered into me and caused that whole embarrassing scene."

Samantha displayed a more sympathetic smile. At least Sarah seemed to be trying. "I'm sorry Sarah. I'm sure another opportunity will present itself soon."

"Maybe," Sarah said softly. She shook herself back to reality. "Let's just go to work."

Until now, Erika had elected to remain silent, but she had heard every word of the conversation between Sarah and Samantha as well as bit of the conversation between Sarah and Bruce. What was going on here? She was going to have to question Bruce about this. But for now that would have to wait. Right now, she had a Nor' Western Daylight to get ready for along with her big, strong express.

A couple stalls over, Bruce climbed into Daemon's cab and was surprised to see Sir Topham Hatt there as well talking to Mike. From the expression on Mike's face, Sir Topham Hatt appeared to have just said something to him that Mike didn't like and Bruce became concerned. "Is there a problem?"

"That I suppose would depend on your definition of problem," Mike replied.

"Is something wrong with Daemon?" Bruce wondered.

"No, Daemon's fine," Mike assured him. "We're all fired up and ready go as soon as we get out clearance."

"Excellent," Bruce said sitting in the engineer's chair. "So what's the problem then?"

"The job we've pulled today," Mike said. "We've assigned to the waste dump."

Bruce almost couldn't believe his ears. "The waste dump?"

Sir Topham Hatt confirmed it. "I'm afraid so Bruce. With the summer season getting started and more tourists arriving, the waste trains are starting to get heavier than Whiff or Scruff can handle. Normally I would assign Henry to this, but I need him to finish his work up at Peel Godred. So for today, I need Daemon working the dump."

Bruce shrugged. "If it's got to be done, it's got to be done. We'll do it."

Sir Topham Hatt nodded in appreciation. "Thank you Bruce. And thank you Daemon."

"Not a problem Sir Topham Hatt sir," Daemon responded.

After Sir Topham Hatt had left, Mike laughed unhappily. "Great. Just great. The waste dump."

Bruce snorted. "I've been wondering when we were going to draw that assignment. Looks like I don't have to wonder any longer. How do you feel about working the dump today Daemon?"

"Aw shoot Mister Bruce, I don't mind at all," Daemon said happily. "Like I said when we first arrived here, I'm just happy ta be workin' again."

Bruce smiled. He could always count on Daemon to be optimistic almost to a fault no matter what challenges he was facing.

Across the roundhouse, Erika had also heard what assignment Daemon had drawn for the day and it pleased her greatly. Maybe a day of foul smelling cars and engines would wipe that silly grin off of his face. "I think you'll like working the dump Daemon," Erika said slyly.

"Really lil' darlin'?" Daemon asked. "What makes ya think so?"

"Well, you back woods Arkansas boys are known for getting dirty and smelly," Erika insulted. "I would think a day around that foul smelling place would be right up your alley."

Daemon shot her a cross expression, but remained silent. A moment later, he received clearance to head out of the yard and begin his work day.

"Ta ta Daemon," Erika taunted as Daemon steamed away. "I'm sure you'll have a great time down there rolling around in the foul muck and making some great new friends."

"That wasn't very nice Erika," Sarah reprimanded her.

"Who cares?" Erika said. Looking across the roundhouse, she saw Gordon roll his eyes and shake his head in disappointment.

Samantha noticed it. "I'd say him for starters. Or maybe what he thinks doesn't matter to you any more either?" Samantha had another point as well. "And if you'll recall, you were kind of fond of Whiff when you were stuck working the dump a few weeks back."

Erika whistled loudly. She sometimes hated it when Samantha was right.

"Oooooo weeeee," Daemon exclaimed as he wrinkled his nose. "Where in all of tarnation have ya'll brought me to?"

Bruce and Mike were having some difficulty adjusting to the stench as well. "Daemon, it _is_ a waste dump," Bruce reminded him. "And I can safely say that we wish we weren't here either, but it's the assignment we drew and it needs to be done. End of story."

Daemon shook his head in a feeble and pointless attempt to get the smell out of his face. "I know but dad gum," he complained. "This place is smellier than a corn field full o' cow patties!"

"I know Daemon," Bruce sympathized. He coughed once and added. "But we've got a job to do and sitting here moaning about the stench isn't going to make that job go away. Just breathe through your mouth as much as possible and maybe it won't be so bad."

"You're right Mister Bruce," Daemon admitted. "Let's git ta it then. The sooner we git this done, the sooner we can be on ta somethin' else."

The Sodor Waste Dump was where all of the garbage on the island was collected. Some of it was processed and recycled in this very location, but most of it was loaded on to trains headed for the various harbors on Sodor. From there it was loaded onto barges for mainland where it would be processed, recycled or permanently disposed of in a location that could better handle the work load. Usually the waste trains going to the harbors were handled by Whiff or Scruff, the dump's resident locomotives. But occasionally, like now, those trains got too big for either of them to handle and outside help was called in.

A little dark green tank engine with black striping, a black smokebox and red running boards rolled up next to Daemon. He had a cheerful but pudgy expression and he wore glasses on his face. "Hi there," he greeted pleasantly. "Wow, you sure are big. Are you Daemon?"

"Well good monin' there little feller," Daemon said in return. "Yes my name is Daemon. I'm supposed ta be takin' some o' these here refuse trains ta the harbors today."

"My name's Whiff," the little engine said. "They call me that because I'm all smelly," he cheerfully admitted.

"Yes, I can understand why," Daemon assured him, not wanting to reveal the fact the Whiff's smell was starting to irritate him.

"Well we take our jobs seriously here, but we're also kind of laid back," Whiff explained the workings of the dump to Daemon. "The first train I have for you is over there by the crusher. It's going to Brendam. Then I have a train of recycled metal for Kirk Ronan and by then I should have a general waste train bound for Norramby for you. After that…"

Daemon cut him off. "Uh Whiff, I don't mean ta be rude, but would ya mind tellin' me the rest o' that while I spin myself on that turntable over yonder? Like I said, I doesn't mean ta be rude or disrespectful, but dad gum… the stench comin' offa ya would knock a buzzard right off a chuck wagon!"

As Daemon steamed away to get turned, Whiff had a question for his driver. "What's a chuck wagon?"

"I have no idea," his driver responded.

Chugging his way towards Brendam, Daemon made good time with his train though the smell of it was beginning to make him wish he'd been assigned somewhere else that day. It wasn't much different for Bruce or Mike who'd both taken to wrapping their noses and mouths with scarves in a comical attempt to keep from smelling the stench. They looked like a pair of train robbers instead of an engineer and fireman. The stench wasn't too bad when Daemon was moving, but when they were stopped like now… well Bruce couldn't immediately recall smelling something worse.

That wasn't the only thing that was upsetting Bruce at the moment. As they continued to wait for the train to be unloaded, he took the opportunity to climb down from the cab and speak to Daemon. "You know Daemon, what you said to Whiff back at the dump… it was kind of rude."

From the expression on Daemon's face, Bruce already knew that Daemon felt bad about the whole thing as well. "Shucks Mister Bruce, I know that," he said. "And I'm real sorry about it. I hope I didn't hurt the little fella's feelin's none."

"You may have Daemon," Bruce admitted. "You may have. Whiff didn't ask for that job, but he nevertheless takes it very seriously. And for that, he deserves nothing but respect no matter what he or the area he works in might smell like."

"You're right Mister Bruce," Daemon said unhappily.

"And don't forget Daemon, you're no stranger to hurt feelings yourself," Bruce reminded him. "On both sides of the coin."

"Yeah, I know that too Mister Bruce," Daemon admitted. "All too well I'm afraid."

_June, 1947 – Dallas, Texas_

Resting comfortably in the Southern Pacific Cadiz Roundhouse, Daemon awaited his next assignment. That probably wouldn't come until the morning as he was having his semi-annual service and inspection completed. But as long as that went okay, he'd be back on the job he loved by tomorrow. Today, his brother Daryl had been assigned to the Morning Star and Delaney had been assigned to the Lone Star. As for Dustin… well, Daemon wasn't sure where Dustin was today. That wasn't uncommon these days. Sometimes he didn't know where any of his brothers were.

There had been many changes around the Dallas terminal area since the end of the war two years ago, and rumor had it there were more coming. The biggest change had been the reduction in service on the Morning Star. With the end of the war came the end of the need for a second section, so the Morning Star had been reduced to one train each way daily. Daemon had protested at first until his brothers had explained that one train each way every day was what the Morning Star had been before the war had started.

Ridership had decreased a bit too. During the war, the Morning Star had been between 16 and 22 coaches on any given trip. Without the constant demand for the transport of troops, he considered himself lucky to see just over half that number of coaches on the train now. The other engines had assured him that the decrease in ridership was just because everyone was still celebrating the end of the war with their families and taking very many vacations these days. That seemed a little odd to Daemon, especially now, two years on. But he still had no reason to suspect something was really wrong and he rested with the knowledge that passenger traffic would pick up again soon when people started traveling more again.

There were some other things that were concerning him too. Since the end of the war, the number of those new-fangled diesels around Dallas had increased dramatically as well as the number of trains they were assigned to. Just after the war had ended, a new train running between Houston and Denver called the Texas Zephyr had been introduced. It was led by a pair of bright, shiny, stainless steel E5 type diesels named Chief and Warrior.

They were a curious pair. Daemon guessed that the two of them took their names from the names "Silver Chief" and "Silver Warrior" stenciled on their sides. Chief always led Warrior for obvious reasons. He had an extremely slanted face, almost like an inverted shovel. Though many found it pleasing to look at, Daemon always thought it was kind of extreme.

Warrior, by contrast, had a flat face and was always coupled behind Chief. Daemon didn't understand why at first until Howard had explained to him that Warrior was a booster unit. He provided extra pulling power, but had no cab of his own and therefore, was forced to rely on Chief to do his job.

But that wasn't the most shocking development. Earlier this year, two other diesels colored in beautiful red, yellow and silver paint had arrived. Twin sisters named Katherine and Karen, they had semi-replaced Moe on the Texas Special. He still handled the train from Dallas south to San Antonio. But from Dallas northward, it was up to Katherine and Karen to handle the train.

Katherine and Karen were an okay sort even for new-fangled diesels. Still, even they could get a little rude from time to time. Chief and Warrior were worse though. Daemon had not gotten on well with either of them pretty much since the day they'd first arrived. While they weren't overly insulting to steam engines, they always seemed to have a mightier-than-thou attitude and frequently bragged about how they could pull a passenger train faster than any steam engine could. Daemon wondered about that. Running flat out he could hit just over 90 miles an hour. Surely those new-fangled diesels couldn't run at speeds much faster than that.

At any rate, he was glad Chief and Warrior weren't in Dallas at the moment. They always tended to bring a dark cloud over the Cadiz roundhouse whenever they decided to hang around. The only other engines in the shed at that moment were Leo, who was fast asleep, Katherine and Karen. Moe was spinning on the turntable in preparation to take the Texas Special that the ladies had just arrived with the rest of the way to San Antonio and who knew where any of the other engines were at the moment.

Katherine laughed to herself as Moe steamed away. "I'm surprised that old grandpa there can actually still generate enough power to move his own drivers," she said insultingly.

"Now Katherine," Karen scolded her twin. "Have some respect. Moses was hauling that train all the way from San Antonio to St. Louis long before we were ever around. That's to be recognized and commended."

"You got that right lil' darlin'," Daemon said, electing to butt into the conversation. "Moe may be the oldest one o' us here. But he's still got more than enough power ta take on any passenger train the Katy chooses ta throw out on the main."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Oh really now?" she said, clearly unmoved by Daemon's suggestion. "And what, pray tell, drives you to make that suggestion there steamie?"

"They need two o' ya'll ta pull the Texas Special," Daemon retaliated. "They only need one o' Moe."

Katherine blasted her horn angrily. "How dare you," she hissed.

"I's only speakin' the truth," Daemon defended his comment.

"He does have a point Katherine," Karen reminded her twin.

Katherine looked like she was about to go into a screaming fit. But just when it seemed like she would blow her generator, she took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. "Perhaps you're right steamie," she growled at him. "But just you remember that the age of diesels has only begun. Steam may still be around a bit longer, but sooner or later they'll only need one diesel on the Texas Special."

Daemon feigned a blasé attitude, but in reality he was concerned. According to Howard, the new diesels that were showing up were more cost effective and easier to maintain. Still, he didn't let his concern show, especially to a diesel. "And when that day come we'll both be out of a job because you'll still need your sister ta pull the Texas Special," Daemon remarked.

From inside Daemon's cab, Howard laughed to himself. He admired Daemon's "take no guff attitude."

Katherine angrily blasted her horn again, prompting the roundhouse foreman to shout at her to shut up. Finally Katherine quieted down and Daemon wore a small smile of success. Not too many steam engines were willing to stand up to the diesels when they got out of line the way Daemon was. It had made him something of a local hero to the other steam engines.

If Daemon was willing to vouch for Moe's relatively intact abilities for pulling a train, he was far less inclined to do so for Trina. The poor girl hadn't been feeling well lately, complaining of aches in her rods and bearings. And as she approached the Cadiz roundhouse after completing her run from Houston on the Sunbeam, she looked worse than ever. She'd been to Southern Pacific's repair shop in El Paso earlier in the month for a complete checkup and Daemon had been forced to take over the Sunbeam for a few days during her absence.

But Trina had been released from the El Paso shops with a clean bill of health. Even so, Daemon wondered if they'd really given her the thorough check they said they had. She looked worse than ever. "Are you okay lil' darlin'?" Daemon asked with genuine concern for her well-being.

"Yeah, I'm fine Daemon," Trina replied. "Just a little sore is all."

"Are you sure 'bout that lil' darlin'," Daemon asked again. "You sure don't look good."

"No Daemon, I'm fine really," Trina insisted. "I just need a little rest is all."

Daemon still wasn't convinced. "Trina, you got a lot o' rest when you was out in El Paso and it doesn't seem ta have done a thing for ya. If ya need more rest I can take the Sunbeam again tonight…"

"I said I'm fine Daemon," Trina yelled at him. "I don't need your help!"

Daemon was surprised by Trina's outburst. "Why… I'm sorry Miss Trina," he said, suddenly being a little more formal. "I just thought that…"

Continuing her tirade, Trina cut him off. "I know what you thought Daemon! And I can assure you that I'm as fit to do my job as ever! I don't need your help and I don't need you offering it to me when I didn't ask for it in the first place!" Angrily, Trina steamed off in the direction of the water tank, groaning painfully as she did.

Daemon was dumbfounded. "What was that all about?" he asked to no one in particular.

Later that day, Trina departed for Houston having not spoken another word to Daemon and every turn of her drivers drew another pained complaint from her. The following day, Daemon was back on the Morning Star and departed Dallas long before Trina arrived with the Sunbeam. The whole ordeal still had him baffled. He'd only wanted to help Trina if she was suffering, not make her angry.

He was still confused about the whole thing when he arrived in Memphis and parked next to Miss Scarlett. Upon seeing the confused and mystified expression on her friend's face, she immediately knew something was wrong. Concerned for Daemon's well-being, Miss Scarlett tried to find out what was bothering him. "Why I declare dear Daemon, I haven't seen a face that long and upset since the day America entered the war. What's troubling you my friend?"

"Oh, nothin'" Daemon lied unconvincingly.

"Now don't you go giving me that "nothing" stuff Daemon," Miss Scarlett told him. "The fact that you are upset sir, is as plain as the bell on your head. So talk to me Daemon. I promise, you'll feel better if you do."

"Oh, I dunno Miss Scarlett," Daemon replied. He wondered if talking about what had happened would really make him feel better and he decided that maybe it would. "Yesterday I upset my good friend Trina and I'll be danged if I know the reason why."

"Well, what did you say to her?"

"All I did was offer ta take the Sunbeam for her ta Houston yesterday evenin'," Daemon insisted. He explained the situation to Miss Scarlett. "See, Miss Trina ain't been feelin' so hot lately. So they sent her out ta El Paso for a checkup. And even though she come back with a clean record, dad gum if she doesn't look and feel worse than before she left. She come into the roundhouse last night lookin' terrible and soundin' even worse than terrible. I could tell she was in a lotta pain and when she left for Houston this mornin', she groaned with ever turn of her drivers.

"When I saw what kind o' pain she was in yesterday, I offered ta take the Sunbeam ta Houston for her," Daemon continued. "But much ta my surprise, she wouldn't hear of it and when I suggested she might need some more rest, she got real cross with me. Said she was still fit as ever ta do her job and basically told me ta mind my own business. She then chuffed away in one heck of a huff and she hasn't said a dad gum thing ta me since then."

"Well Daemon sir," Miss Scarlett said. "I declare that's why she's so upset. You gave her one good scare."

Daemon was confused. "What d'ya mean Miss Scarlett?"

"For what it's worth Daemon, I don't think Trina is truly mad at you," Miss Scarlett replied. "But Daemon, you have to remember that with all these new fangled diesels starting to replace us steamers, we're getting desperate to show our bosses that we are still useful to them. I declare Daemon, Southern's bosses are already talking about replacing my sisters with diesels on the Crescent. That hasn't happened yet, but if it does, the Tennessean won't be far to follow."

Daemon blinked once. "Forgive me Miss Scarlett, but I'm not sure I understand what that has ta do with why Trina is so upset."

Miss Scarlett smiled. She really did find Daemon's naiveté attractive. "Daemon, I know you meant well. And deep down, I think Trina knows that too. But every engine that's worth keeping wants to be useful to their bosses. By offering the help that you did when it wasn't asked for by her or ordered by the bosses, you questioned Trina's ability to be useful. And I declare Daemon, in this day and age, that kind of suggestion can mean the end of a steamer's career if one of the bosses happens to overhear it. It's a good thing that no Southern Pacific bosses were around to hear your words, or they might start thinking that rather than have darlin' Trina repaired, it would just be easier to replace her with a diesel or two."

The full magnitude of what Daemon had suggested finally hit him like a head-on collision with another train. "Dangantion," he said quietly. "I didn't think about it that way. Dad gum… I really screwed up didn't I?"

"Now don't be so hard on yourself Daemon," Miss Scarlett tried to cheer him up. "I know you weren't thinkin' that your words could possibly do more harm than good. And I suppose that's to be expected. But Daemon, I declare, you need to be careful with suck talk. You might accidentally cause a steamer's retirement saying such things."

"I don't want that Miss Scarlett," Daemon confided in her. "I don't want to be the cause o' any engine losin' their job." He sighed heavily. "Dangnation… now I feel like one giant prized pole cat."

"Oh Daemon, it'll be all right in the end," Miss Scarlett said with a smile.

"Ya think so?" Daemon genuinely asked her, but not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Sure I do." Miss Scarlett's smile got even wider and brighter. "That may not have been the smartest thing you ever said, but I know deep down you've got a good heart Daemon. And I know you'd never want to be the cause of any engine losing their job."

Daemon nodded in agreement. "You're right about that Miss Scarlett."

"And I'm sure that once you get back to Dallas and have a chat with Miss Trina, all will be fine," Miss Scarlett added. "But I declare Daemon, you do owe that nice lady an apology."

"You're right. I'll give it ta her as soon as I can," Daemon said with a smile. His talk with Scarlett had put him in a much better mood. "Oh I can't wait ta git back." He regarded Scarlett with an appreciative smile. "Thank ya for the talk Miss Scarlett. And I right appreciate ya cheerin' me up too. I'll never forget it."

"You're very welcome Daemon," Miss Scarlett smiled in return.

Daemon departed Memphis in much better spirits than he was in when he arrived. By the time he turned around in St. Louis and started heading home, Howard was having some difficulty keeping Daemon reeled in. "Take it easy Daemon," he warned. "I know you're anxious to get back, but let's not have a wreck trying to get there."

"Sorry Mister Howard," Daemon apologized.

Once back in Dallas, Daemon dropped his train and headed over to the wash rack. With a quick rinse and top off of fuel and water he headed over to the Cadiz roundhouse. Trina was there waiting for her evening run on the Sunbeam and Daemon was glad to see that there were no diesels there. In fact the only other engines in the roundhouse were Maria and Jeremiah, both in for servicing after pulling heavy oil trains from the Permian Basin.

"Well good evening Daemon," Maria greeted him cheerfully. "How was your run to St. Louis today?"

Daemon ignored Maria as he spun on the turntable and rolled back next to Trina. The angry expression she had displayed the day before was gone, replaced by a look of sadness and perhaps even fear. "Trina," he said quietly when he'd come to a stop. "Can I talk ta ya for a minute? Ya don't have ta say anythin' if you don't want."

Trina nodded and managed a slight smile. "Sure Daemon," Trina replied. "You can always talk to me."

Daemon was encouraged by the fact that Trina spoke at all. "Well lil' darlin'… I'm real sorry. I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I never meant ta suggest ya couldn't do your job. I was just tryin' ta maybe make your life a little easier and I really wasn't thinkin' about the potential mess I could've created."

Trina smiled, though she still wore a nervous expression. "I know you meant well Daemon and I appreciate you trying to look out for me, especially when so few of the other engines nowadays will do that. And I apologize to you for overreacting. It's just…. I'm afraid Daemon."

Her response surprised Daemon. "Afraid? Afraid of what lil' darlin'?"

"Daemon, don't you see what's starting to happen around here?" Trina asked him. "The bosses are starting to see us as old, outdated technology and it's because of those new-fangled diesels that keep arriving. They're starting to replace us on every type of job that there is Daemon."

"Even on passenger trains?" Daemon wondered.

"Especially on passenger trains," Trina said.

Daemon felt himself start to panic. "B… but Delaney told me that all they was good for was shuntin' cars from here ta there."

Trina was aghast. "And you still believe that? Daemon, look at what's happened to Moe. He no longer pulls the Texas Special any further north than here. Katherine and Karen handle the train from here on. And what about Chief and Warrior? They're handling the Texas Zephyr faster than any of us could've handled the old Colorado Special."

Daemon knew that was true but up until now, he supposed he'd been kind of denying the obvious. His days were numbered. And the most maddening thing was that he had no idea when the clock was going to run out.

"Daemon, my bosses are already testing the idea of putting diesels on the Sunset Limited that I interchange with in Houston," Trina said sadly. "If SP does that… well, I can't help but wonder how much more time will go by before they replace me with a diesel."

Despite recalling Miss Scarlett's words about Southern testing diesels on the Crescent Limited, Daemon did his best to sound optimistic. "Don't say that Trina. There will always be a place for you. Surely the humans in charge can realize that?"

"But they don't Daemon," Trina said shaking her head and on the brink of tears. "They're funny in that way. One minute they think you're the greatest thing ever created and the next minute, you're old, outdated and useless. And I'm in so much pain Daemon. Sometimes I feel like I won't even be able to make my drivers complete a full turn, much less run all the way to Houston."

Daemon didn't how to respond to that. "Trina, what… what can I do ta help calm your fears?"

Trina sniffed loudly and did her best to compose herself. "Nothing Daemon. Just sit here with me. Talk to me."

Daemon managed a smile and nodded. "All right lil' darlin'," he said quietly. "If that's what ya need, that's what I'll give ya."

"Thank you Daemon," Trina said with a smile. "You're such a good friend."

_Island of Sodor – Present Day_

Somewhere between Kellsthorpe Road and Killdane, Daemon headed back towards the dump with a string of empty cars he'd just unloaded at Norramby. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was bright and warm in sky. And despite the stench from the train he was hauling, people were still greeting him trackside, marveling at just how big an American steam engine could be. Daemon was loving every minute of it and was looking forward to seeing Whiff again.

"Slow down a bit Daemon," Bruce called out. "We're not trying to break any speed records here."

"I know Mister Bruce," Daemon replied. "But I really need ta talk ta Whiff again. I owe the little feller an apology for the way I acted this mornin'."

"That I'm not going to deny Daemon," Bruce agreed. "But he's not going anywhere, so reel it in a bit before there's a problem."

"All right Mister Bruce," Daemon said as he started to slow down.

Up ahead, Old Farmer Cuthbert was having a bad day too. The big old truck he owned that he insisted would never break down had done just that. And on the railroad crossing of all places. Oh well, there weren't any trains coming at the moment, so he figured he could take a few minutes and try to figure out what the problem was. If he did, then with a little luck he could fix it and get the truck rolling again in no time. Besides, the load he was carrying was far too precious and heavy for him to abandon or even try to push off the tracks.

Throwing open the hood, he was greeted by a jetting cloud of steam erupting from the radiator. Old Farmer Cuthbert cursed loudly. Damn engine had boiled over, but why? Other than the fact that it was whistling like a tea kettle, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the radiator.

Old Farmer Cuthbert grumbled as he set about his work and envisioned the argument he was going to have with his wife when he got home later. _I told you that darned thing was too old. Now maybe you'll listen to me you crusty old fart and buy yourself a new truck._ That would be close to how it would go anyway. "Bah," Old Farmer Cuthbert grunted. This truck had served him well for just over forty years now. As long as he some tools and little luck, he could fix it again and stop that annoying whistling. He'd done numerous times in the past and he'd do it as often as he had to. Why should he buy a new truck? The one he had now was just fine.

Suddenly, the railroad warning signals were activated and Cuthbert looked up in wide-eyed surprise as the bells started to ring, the lights started to flash and the gates started coming down. With dawning horror, Old Farmer Cuthbert realized that whistling he'd been hearing hadn't been the radiator of his truck, but rather the whistle of an approaching train!

Looking up the track, he was horrified to see Daemon bearing down on the crossing as fast as he could. His whistle was blowing loudly and sparks were shooting out from his drivers as he attempted to stop. In a desperate attempt to save his truck and his cargo, Old Farmer Cuthbert ran in between the disabled vehicle and the rapidly approaching Daemon and began waving his arms over his head. "No!" He yelled as loud as he could. "No! Stop!"

The instant Bruce saw the disabled truck blocking the crossing, he slammed Daemon's throttle closed, applied the emergency brakes and began blowing Daemon's whistle. Though the brakes were now engaged, Daemon's forward momentum was too great to avoid the collision. "Hang on Mike!" Bruce yelled across the cab. "We're gonna hit!"

Ahead, Old Farmer Cuthbert continued to stand in the tracks and wave his arms in a foolish, desperate and life threatening attempt to save his ancient truck. "Stop! No! Please stop!"

Bruce began blowing the track obstruction alarm which was defined in most railroading cultures as a rapid series of short blasts on the whistle. "What is that idiot doing?" Bruce yelled as he watched Old Farmer Cuthbert's doomed attempt to save his property. "Come on old man, move! Move you old fool! Get out of the way!"

"Stop! No! No! Stop!"

Daemon didn't relish the idea of hitting the truck, but what he really didn't want to hit was Old Farmer Cuthbert. He cut loose one more ultra-long and ultra-loud blast on his whistle, yet was still able to yell over it, "GIT OUTTA THE WAY YA DAD GUM IDIOTIC OLD POLE CAT!"

Finally accepting that Daemon was not going to stop in time, Old Farmer Cuthbert jumped out of the way seconds before Daemon would've hit him. An instant later, Daemon squeezed his eyes shut and plowed into the truck totally destroying it on impact. The brown dirt-like cargo that Old Farmer Cuthbert had been hauling was thrown in all directions. Some of it landed on Daemon's face, while more of it landed on top of his boiler and throughout his running gear while still more of it found its way back into his cab, pelting Bruce and Mike.

And finally Daemon stopped.

Old farmer Cuthbert got to his feet and looked at his truck, now a barely recognizable crumpled heap perched awkwardly on Daemon's cowcatcher. "My truck!" Old farmer Cuthbert wailed. "My beautiful truck!"

_Who cares about your damn old truck,_ Bruce thought. _You're lucky you're not a hood ornament on Daemon's cowcatcher along with it._ "You all right Daemon?"

Daemon was a little dazed and woozy from the impact, but otherwise unhurt. "I… I think so Mister Bruce," he responded. "I'm just covered in whatever in tarnation this mess is."

It was then the stench hit all three of them and they realized what they were all covered in. And with that realization, Bruce, Mike and Daemon all loudly and simultaneously uttered the same word.

"SHIT!"

Sometime later the cleanup crews had arrived and peeled what was left of Old Farmer Cuthbert's truck off of Daemon's cowcatcher. A wrecker was loading it on to a flatcar in preparation to be hauled away to the waste dump. Daemon had been detached from the train and Henry had arrived to take it onward while Daemon was thoroughly inspected for damage. As he waited for the flatcar now carrying Old Farmer Cuthbert's mangled truck to be added to the train, Henry couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the smell of manure and chuckle a bit when he saw Daemon covered in it. "Looks like you're in a real crappy predicament Daemon," Henry joked.

"No kiddin'," Daemon said with a wry smile. "Guess I smell like a corn field full o' cow patties now."

Nearby, Bruce was giving Sir Topham Hatt his version of the events that unfolded leading to the accident. "So as soon as I saw the truck in Daemon's way I shut of his throttle and set his brakes into emergency stop and then…"

The twisted expression on Sir Topham Hatt's face, strongly suggested that he too was having some difficulty coping with the smell. In fact, he looked like he was about to keel over from it. He'd held his breath to the point where he was almost turning blue but couldn't hold it any longer. Forcefully expelling it from his lungs, he cut Bruce off. "Yeah, great Bruce… uh… tell me the rest on phone, would you please?" And with that, he beat a hasty retreat to his car, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Can't say I really blame him for doing that," Mike said.

"No, I suppose not," Bruce agreed as his cell phone started to ring. "Yes sir," he said upon answering it. "As I was saying…"

Elsewhere, Mrs. Cuthbert had been notified by the local constable that her husband had been in an accident. Hurrying to the scene, she was relieved to see he was okay, but ticked off to see that his old, useless truck had been the direct cause of this whole mess. Well now that Daemon had demolished it, there was no way he could avoid buying a new one now.

Predictably however, Old Farmer Cuthbert was more interested in how his old truck was going to be fixed now than anything else. "What about my truck?" he complained loudly. He pointed to the mangles heap that was pathetically perched on the flatcar. "Who's going to fix it now?"

"Are you daft man?" one of the accident investigators told him. "Your truck is a quarter of the size it was before impact. There's no way it can be fixed now."

But Old Farmer Cuthbert was defiant. "Nonsense sonny. There's nothing wrong with that truck that a little body work and paint can't take care of and I'm expecting the railroad to repair it to the condition it was in before your danged engine ruined it."

Daemon heard the exchange and whistled angrily. Didn't this old idiot understand that the accident had been _his_ fault?

That was enough for Mrs. Cuthbert. Hauling back and swinging with all her might, she batted her husband in the back of his head with her purse. "Have you lost your mind you old fool?" She hit him again, prompting Old Farmer Cuthbert to cry out and back away from his angry wife. "The man just said your truck was completely destroyed and if you'd bother to open your eyes, you'd see was right!"

"But Hilda," he complained. "My truck!"

"Your truck, your truck," Mrs. Cuthbert raged. "It's always your truck, isn't it?" She whacked him with her purse again. "Well, let me tell you something you silly old goat; it's you and your damned truck that caused this mess in the first place because you wouldn't replace it when I told you to!" Another whack. "And then you have the idiocy to stand in front of a speeding train in a pathetic attempt to save your precious truck! Well guess what you doddering old fool…" Another whack. "…now you'll just have to buy a yourself new truck like you should've done twenty years ago! That is if you expect to harvest anything this summer and bring some money into the house instead of pissing it away at the local pub!" Another whack and she shook her finger in his face. "And I'll tell you another thing you crusty old fart, when we get home…"

The noise of Old Farmer Cuthbert's enraged wife died away as she drove him away from the scene. Daemon and Bruce both watched in fascination and maybe even a little fear. When she was finally out of earshot, Daemon couldn't help but sarcastically say, "She's a nice lady." He glanced back down at the point where Mrs. Cuthbert had finally convinced Old Farmer Cuthbert that he'd be safer hiding in her car than being face to face with her. Daemon looked back at Bruce and squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeeesh."

It also prompted a joke from Mike. "Weren't uh, weren't you married to her once?"

"Hardly," Bruce defended himself. "Her daughter maybe, but not her."

Daemon and Mike both burst out laughing and Mike nearly fell on the ground.

Long after Henry had departed with Daemon's train plus the flatcar carrying the truck and all statements to the relevant authorities made, the mess had been cleaned up as much as possible and Daemon was cleared to return to Tidmouth. Unfortunately, he did not have a chance to bathe and the line at the wash rack was a long one. Therefore, he arrived at the Tidmouth sheds still covered in crap, causing all of the other engines present to recoil in shock from the smell.

"Sorry y'all," he said apologetically. "I had a little accident and well, this here was the result."

The first one to say anything was James, who was afraid that somehow the mess that Daemon was covered in would get on him and ruin his red paint. "Oh good grief," he cried. "What happened to you Daemon?"

"I said I had a little accident," Daemon reminded him.

"With what?" James asked and promptly shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Just don't get any of that crap on me!" He said this last sentence as he lurched forward towards the mainline and disappeared, happy to by away from the smell and the crap that covered him.

Emily was next t ospeak. "Daemon, you're a good, kind man," she said. "But don't ya think you're distressin' all of here by showin' up a right proper mess? Don't ya think a wee bit of a bath is in order sir?"

Before Daemon could answer her, she too had followed James away from the roundhouse and onto the main line.

Now it was Gordon's turn and he looked like he wanted to vomit. "Daemon, I'm sorry for the accident you were in. But would you mind standing downwind of us until you get washed off? You'll permeate this whole shed with that smell." He was also eager to get out of the area and was on the turntable and on to the main line faster than ever before.

One by one, all of the engines in the shed said something to Daemon before leaving in a hurry. Last to open their mouth was Erika. "Oh Lord," she said and wrinkled her nose at the foul stench coming off of him. "Well Daemon, I always suspected you were a shit-head and you've just proven me right beyond my wildest expectations. Geez, go wash off before you knock out the other engine crews, especially mine."

And with that, Daemon was alone in the roundhouse area and he was a little upset too. "Did she really have ta call me that?"

"No," Bruce said. "And I'm sure Samantha and Sarah will give Erika an earful for it."

Daemon wasn't particularly convinced of that. "If ya say so. Still, it sure seems like we cleaned this place out in a hurry Mister Bruce," he observed.

"Can you blame them for wanting to get away from us," Bruce asked. "I'm sure there are things out there that smell worse than we do, Daemon. But at the present moment, I can't think of any of them."

"Aw I know that Mister Bruce," Daemon said. "And I don't blame them one little bit for rollin' out o' here faster than a cowboy respondin' ta a chow bell. But it just makes me feel worse because it reminds me that I shoulda been a little nicer ta Whiff earlier."

"Well you can apologize to Whiff tomorrow Daemon," Bruce informed him. "Right now my top priority is to get you washed off, then get home so I can wash myself off. I'm sure Mike feels the same way."

"Ya think?" Mike grumbled loudly.

Daemon knew Bruce was right. "Okay. Let's git ta it."

Making his way to Sodor Steamworks in an attempt to get washed off, Daemon was "greeted' by Victor, a narrow gauge tank engine from Cuba who worked the Steamworks as an inspector and was frequently called upon to make sure all the other steamers on Sir Topham Hatt's Railway were functioning properly. But had never seen or smelled an engine completely covered in crap before. With wide-eyes and an open mouth, Victor began to let out a long, rapid fire series of words in his native Spanish. Daemon had no doubt that whatever Victor was saying, it contained more than a few curse words.

Still ranting at the top of his voice in Spanish, Victor chuffed off in the direction of the main line, willing to do anything to get away from the foul stench. He even blew his whistle here and there a few times amongst the rapid fire expressions.

"Well, that went semi-better than I expected," Daemon said as he watched Victor retreat.

"How so?" Bruce wondered.

"I didn't understand a danged word he just said," Daemon admitted. "Which is probably for the best actually."

Bruce couldn't help but laugh. "Come on old boy, let's get you clean and nice."

After being thoroughly cleaned, he spent that night on a service track near the Tidmouth coaling tower. With his mind primarily on Whiff, he didn't feel like talking to any other engines. Though he responded as they all rolled back in that evening with hearty greetings for him, he didn't offer much else except an emotionless, "good evenin'" to them. He even ignored Erika who had yet another scathing insult for him as she passed by him on her way to the roundhouse and her big strong express.

That was the one thing that got Daemon's mind off of Whiff and how he would apologize to the little guy. He opened his mouth to say something, but found that actually saying something to Erika now would be pointless. Her attitude towards him though was starting to really irritate him. What did she have against him? Why was she always so mean to him? He hadn't done anything to hurt her, even back when they'd first met in 1954. While he hardly would've said they were friends back then, he'd always treated her with respect and dignity. He'd even stepped up and defended her honor at one point and nearly gotten himself thrown off the Cotton Belt roster for it.

Erika had been very appreciative of what Daemon had done to help defend her and for a while it looked like they might actually become friends. But that had all changed somehow, and Daemon didn't know why. He'd tried to find out when he'd seen Erika at the 1992 National Railroad Historical Society Convention in San Jose, but she'd just told him, "You know why."

Daemon was still trying to figure out why, when he fell asleep.

The next morning, Daemon was startled awake by Erika rudely whistling in his face as she as she passed by him to get the morning Nor' Western. Whatever snide comment she made along with it was lost to the wind. This was getting monotonous. If she kept this up he'd have to have a little "chat" with her. But right now he had bigger things on his mind than a nonsensical and silly Daylight.

As Bruce and Mike began to build up his fire and steam, Sir Topham Hatt's car pulled up and the fat little guy approached him. "Well Daemon," he said with a pleasant smile. "It's good to see you looking, feeling… and smelling better today."

"I thank ya for that Sir Topham Hatt sir," Daemon replied. "It does indeed feel good ta not be smellin' like a barnyard. So, what's my job for today?"

"I've got a load of construction supplies for you to take to Vicarstown along with some empties for Barrow," Sir Topham Hatt told him. "After that, you'll be on the Salad Bowl Express right back here."

"Sound good ta me sir," Daemon said. "But uh… would it be all right if I made a stop at the waste dump for just a short while? I'd kind o' like ta speak with Whiff for a bit if ya don't mind."

"What for Daemon?" Sir Topham Hatt was curious to know the answer and once Daemon explained the situation, he smiled approvingly. "All right Daemon. The construction materials are still being loaded up in Tidmouth Harbor and won't be ready for a little while yet. As soon as Bruce thinks you're ready, you can head over to the waste dump. But once there, you have only an hour. After that, you must return to take the train to Vicarstown and Barrow and then collect the Salad Bowl Express for your return. Okay?"

"All right, one hour," Daemon said smiling. "Don't ya worry Sir Topham Hatt. I'll be back ta do my job on time."

"I know you will Daemon."

And so it was a short time later, that Daemon steamed back to the Sodor waste dump. The smell of it sure hadn't gotten any better, but Daemon really didn't seem to notice this time around. Either that or he just didn't care. In the end, hauling trash was just a job, like hauling passengers, construction materials, food or any other one of the countless things trains pulled from place to place.

Whiff was coupled up to a string of hoppers being loaded with scrap metal. Later, the cars would be hauled by someone to the port of Knapford to be loaded onto a ship and transported to the mainland. Whoever that was going to be, Daemon didn't know but he couldn't but feel a pang of regret at the knowledge that it would not be him. Not today anyway.

Whiff smiled and cheerfully blew his whistle as Daemon approached. "Hey Daemon," he greeted as the big American 4-8-4 came to a stop next to him. "How are you feeling? I heard you had a little accident yesterday."

"Yeah," Daemon said. "Dad gum, I ran straight into a truck that was filled with some… well let's say really foul stuff that ya don't want ta be covered in. But I'm okay. Nothin' that a good hose and brush couldn't take care of."

Whiff chuckled. "Yeah, I heard about that part of the accident too." He nodded towards another track off to his right where the flatcar that had been sent to accident site sat, the mangled truck still resting pitifully on it. "The truck you hit is right there. Later today, it's going to be washed down and then crushed."

"I think Old Farmer Cuthbert would have a heart attack if he was here ta see that happen," Daemon observed.

"That was his truck?" Whiff asked. "Good riddance. It's about time he got rid of it, though I'm sure he's not very happy about how it was disposed of."

"No sir," Daemon said. "I can assure you that was not. But his wife was able ta… persuade him to see otherwise, shall we say."

Whiff knew what that meant and he laughed. "Ouch."

"Yeah," Daemon agreed. "Ouch several times over is right."

"All kidding aside Daemon, I'm sure am glad you're okay," Whiff said.

"Why thank ya little fella," Daemon said appreciatively. "I'm glad I'm okay too."

"So are you working here again today?" Whiff wondered. "I thought Edward was going to take this train."

"I guess he is," Daemon replied. "All I know for sure is that I'm workin' the Salad Bowl Express today. But I wanted ta come here and see ya for a mite before I started off."

"Well that's nice of you Daemon," Whiff said. "But may I ask why?"

"Well," Daemon said. "Golly gee, Whiff, I felt so terrible about how I spoke ta ya and treated ya yesterday, I just wanted ta come back and apologize ta ya."

Whiff was surprised. "Apologize? To me? Why?"

"For callin' ya smelly and hurtin' your feelin's."

Whiff eyed Daemon for a second in confusion, then suddenly started laughing. "Are you serious Daemon? You thought I was upset by what you said to me?"

Now it was Daemon's turn to look confused. "Ya mean ya weren't?"

"No, not at all," Whiff assured him. "Daemon, look at where I work. This _is_ a waste dump after all. I know I'm smelly. It's the nature of my job. Sure it makes it hard to make friends every now and then, but I really don't care. I love my job and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Well tarnation Whiff, I sure am glad you ain't upset or mad at me," Daemon confessed, clearly relieved. "I sure was afraid ya would be."

"Why would I be upset at the truth Daemon?" Whiff asked him. "I work in a dump. I'm smelly. Period. What else is there to say?"

"I suppose nothin'," Daemon admitted as he thought it over. "No. I take that back little fella. Because there is one other thing ta say. Yes ya may work in a dump and ya might be right smelly and all that. But as for all this about it bein' difficult ta make friends? I say bull cookies because ya just made a friend Whiff."

"Really?" Whiff asked, clearly surprised.

"Mm hmm," Daemon insisted. "And little friend, when we all done with today's work load, I'd like ta come back here and then you and I can have a right fine chat. What d'ya say little friend?"

"I'd like that Daemon," Whiff said excitedly. "A lot."

"Good," Daemon answered. "I would too."

Back in Daemon's cab, Bruce took note of the fact that they were almost out of time. The construction train had to be taken and if they left now, they'd be able to couple up to the Salad Bowl Express right as it arrived from the mainland. "Come on Daemon," Bruce told him. "It's time we were getting underway."

"All right Mister Bruce," Daemon answered. He turned back to Whiff. "Well little friend, I gotta git goin' now. But I'll be back after sunset and you can tell me all about your life here and I'll tell ya a bit about mine back home. How's that sound?"

"I look forward to it Daemon," Whiff said.

"All right then," Daemon said. He issued three short blasts on his whistle. "Ya take o' yourself today little friend, ya hear?"

"You too Daemon," Whiff said. "And have a great day today."

As Daemon headed off back towards Tidmouth to collect his train, Bruce paid him a compliment. "I'm proud of you Daemon. Very proud of you indeed."

"Thank ya Mister Bruce," Daemon replied. "I'm kinda proud o' myself too. And I sure am glad that Whiff wasn't upset with me for what I done said. Makes me feel a whole lot better. Maybe one day Erika will tell me why she's so upset with me?"

"Maybe Daemon," Bruce considered. "When she's ready to tell you, she will. But even if she never does, don't let her attitude towards you get you down. And don't waste a lot of time trying to figure out why she's upset with you. It's not worth the time. You both have something to offer to the railroad industry and unlike a lot of steam engines in this world, you're able to prove that steam locomotives can still have a place in daily railroading service. In the end, that's all that matters."

"I know Mister Bruce," Daemon assured his driver. "And I sure am happy ta be showin' the humans in this here world that gittin' rid o' steam was perhaps a bit premature o' them. I just wish some o' my old friends from Dallas could be here ta see it."

"I understand Daemon," Bruce said. "I understand."

Daemon whistled once. He noticed they were running a little slow and Daemon was anxious to get underway. "Hey Mister Bruce, ya think ya give me a little more steam here? We got a trains ta move and we ain't gonna git our job done today if I'm movin' slower than a constipated billy goat!"

Bruce laughed. That was the Daemon he knew and loved. "You got it Daemon," he said yanking back on the throttle.


	5. Chapter 5: Love, Rivalry & Risk, Part 1

My Darlin' Cousin, Chapter 5 – Love, Rivalry and Risk, Part 1

The week of July 4th was one of great celebration on the Island of Sodor. To commemorate America's birthday and honor the American steam engines now residing on the island, Sir Topham Hatt had appointed a four-day festival on the island called "American Steam Days" and judging from the number of tickets sold even before it began left little doubt in Sir Topham Hatt's mind that it was going to be an extremely popular festival. In fact, the morning before the festival began as Sir Topham Hatt talked with Lady Hatt about it over breakfast, he was already beginning to make plans for a repeat festival next summer.

Fittingly, the stars of the festival were to be all of the American made steam engines who either lived on, or frequented the island. Erika and Daemon would obviously be present as would Rosie, a lavender & powder puff blue American-built 0-6-0 tank engine who often worked Thomas's branch line with him or shunted cars in the yard. She also semi-fancied herself Thomas's girlfriend… much to Thomas's dismay.

And then there was Hank, who for a while had been the largest and most powerful engine on Sodor. Hank was a Pennsylvania Railroad K4 class 4-6-2 that had spent his early years hauling the Broadway Limited from Chicago to New York. He was generally a cheerful engine that often worked the Peel Godred line and therefore, wasn't seen around Tidmouth but maybe once every couple of months.

Along with those four, Sir Robert Norramby had enthusiastically loaned his two engines – Connor and Caitlin – to Sir Topham Hatt to take part in the festival as well. Connor was a New York Central J3 class 4-6-4 that spent his early years hauling the 20th Century Limited… from Chicago to New York. Caitlin was P-7 "Presidential" class 4-6-2 from the Baltimore & Ohio railroad. She had spent her early years working the Capitol Limited between Washington DC and Chicago and then later, the Royal Blue from Washington to New York. An excitable engine by nature, she was nevertheless a little bit apprehensive about the upcoming festival.

Connor and Hank had known each other way back during their early years in Chicago, and had been rivals to one another. However, the rivalry between them had not been a friendly one and even now, their relationship was tense at best. Whenever the two of them got together they often argued about who was the best engine, which was the best train, which railroad was the best and who chalked up the most wins in "The Great Daily Race" eastward out of Englewood, Illinois. Their constant "machismo" often got on Caitlin's nerves and frequently she would have to institute herself between them just to get them to stop yelling at each other.

The festival itself was comprised of several fan trips around the island, a series of meet 'n' greets between the star engines and the public and a series of photo specials that would give the general public a chance to photograph the engines in their "daily" activities. These would be supplemented by other, smaller events such as face painting for the kids, circus performers from all across the mainland hired to perform for the crowds, guided tours of the Tidmouth yards and shops, historical presentations on the history of American steam as well as the histories of the featured locomotives, and even wine tastings from a local vineyard.

Beginning on July 1st, the festival ran until July 4th when the feature of the day was going to be an excursion from Arlesburgh all the way to Paddington Station in London and back again. The trip was scheduled to take most of the day, arriving back in Sir Robert Norramby's Ulfstead Castle just in time for an American style barbecue, followed by a grand fireworks display and music. Once that was over, the excursion would continue back as far as Tidmouth for the official conclusion of the festival.

Overall Erika was looking forward to all of it, except one thing. The final excursion from Arlesburgh to London and back was going to be a double-header and Erika had learned that she and Daemon had been assigned to it. _Great,_ she thought. _A festival honoring my home and the end of it has to be marred double heading with him._

The thing that mitigated those unfortunate and unwanted circumstances though was that the festival would give Erika a chance to see her older sister, Edith. She had learned from Sir Topham Hatt a few days earlier that he had specially invited Edith from the mainland to take part in the festival. It was an invitation that Edith's owner, Yvette Fowler, and her driver, Brett the Third, had been all too happy to accept.

To say that Erika had been thrilled to learn her older sister was still alive eight months ago was a gross understatement. After what had happened to her back in '55, Erika had thought Edith was goner for sure. The fact that she never saw her again until recently only served to further Erika's beliefs. But then that miraculous time had come that forever would live in Erika's mind as one of the greatest moments of her life… the discovery by Henry just before last Thanksgiving that Edith was alive, well and living on the mainland. Erika had happily cried for hours when she'd reunited with her sister and the two of them had reminisced about their lives since that awful day when Erika and Mitzi had been forced to tow Edith to Sacramento. The day that for all intents and purposes, Erika believed her sister had died.

These days, Erika didn't see Edith as often as she would've liked, and yet it was frequent enough for the casual observer to sometimes wonder who was who. Sir Topham Hatt always made sure to give the sisters a few hours alone so that they could just sit, talk and do whatever it was that sisters with a lot of earned miles between them did. Erika was looking forward to the last night of the festival as that was when she and Edith would get their alone time together.

Erika smiled as she thought about what the morning after the festival was going to bring and how special that would be as well. Edith was scheduled to return to the mainland early in the morning on the 5th and to that end, she was going to triple-head on the morning Nor' Western Daylight with Erika and Gordon. This wasn't just for show as they would be pulling Edith's coaches with them in addition to the standard train as far as Barrow. Even though the trip wasn't officially part of the festival, it was already a sell-out as all of the other festival excursions were.

Erika was fondly recalling various memories of herself and Edith in southern California when a deep, low whistle echoed throughout the Tidmouth Yard announcing Edith's arrival. By now the other engines had gotten used to the "demonic" whistles carried by Erika and Daemon, so the sound didn't quite scare them so much. Still, it was kind of unnerving every now and then.

Looking as beautiful as she did the day that she was officially handed over to the SP, Edith rolled into the Tidmouth yard and came to a stop on the turntable. A jet of steam shot out of Edith's blow-off and Erika smiled widely. It never ceased to amaze her to think just how far Edith had come. Six decades ago Edith was the sickest engine Erika knew and now it was as if she had never been ill at all. It kind of made Erika wish that Elena had been as lucky as Edith had.

Her skirting long replaced and her paint restored to its original Daylight splendor, Edith was now as big as Erika as she had been rebuilt to GS-5 class specifications. That meant she had 80 inch drivers in place of her original 73 inch drivers, an all-weather cab and functioned on 300 pounds of boiler pressure just like Erika. The real difference though, was in the Timken-style roller bearings that Edith had on her rods. They made running smoother and not quite as bumpy.

The turntable stopped so that the two sisters were facing each other. "Edith!" Erika squealed happily. "Oh, it's so good to see you! How have you been?"

"Erika, if I was any better and I'd be twins," Edith joked easily and the sisters laughed. She looked to her right and regarded Gordon with a devious smile. "Hello there Gordon," she greeted the big express. "Thought any more about finally making an honest woman out of my sister?"

Gordon shook his head slightly as he was used to Edith's continual razzing about the relationship he and Erika shared. There wasn't anything mean or nasty about it. Just a little light-hearted fun and he repaid in kind. "About as much as Henry has thought of making an honest woman out of you."

Edith laughed heartily. "Touché, Gordon," she conceded. "Touché."

"A-hem," Daemon prompted Erika.

Erika was caught off guard. "Huh? She said turning to look at him." She frowned and looked back at her sister. "Oh." Erika would've preferred not to introduce the two of them, but it was clear that Daemon was expecting it and from the look on Edith's face, she was curious about the new engine as well. "Edith, this is Daemon," she said reluctantly. "He's an L-1 class from the Cotton Belt."

Daemon frowned at Erika and turned to Edith. "Actually, I'm a GS-8 class engine from the Cotton Belt," he corrected. "And I sure am right pleased ta meet ya lil' darlin'."

Erika was about to yell at Daemon but Edith spoke before she could. "Ah," Edith said with a smile. "So you're the Daemon that my dear Henry keeps telling me about. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Erika smiled. Edith was setting him up for a whopper of an insult.

"Why I thank ya for that lil' darlin'," Daemon replied with a grin.

Edith gave him a coy look. "Lil' darlin'?"

_Here it comes,_ Erika thought, waiting for the punch line.

"Aw now don't let that git water in yer ashpan," Daemon said hopefully. "Dad gum, this one here already gits her flues twisted up into a knot whenever I say that."

Edith's smile got bigger. "Oh don't worry Daemon," she said. "I'd actually be offended if you didn't call me lil' darlin'."

"Ya would?" Daemon asked, a bit surprised.

Daemon wasn't the only one who was surprised. Erika looked at her sister and wondered if she'd taken a severe hit to the smokebox between now and the last time she was here. All she could manage to say though was echo Daemon's words. "You would?"

"Of course," Edith assured him. "You had a brother named Daryl, didn't you?"

Daemon's eyes widened. "I sure did lil' darlin'," he said, further surprised that Edith seemed to know him. "Did ya know Daryl? I know he and my other brother, Dustin, was sent out ta California back in '52."

"I did Daemon," Edith revealed. "I met him several times in the San Francisco area where he was pulling commuter and regional trains. Dustin too. Fine engines, both of them. Daryl used to call me lil' darlin' too."

Erika was completely mystified by this unexpected turn of events. "He did?" She asked in a low, somewhat repulsed sounding voice.

Daemon laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like him all right. Called every lady "lil' darlin'" just like I do."

"Yes he did," Edith confirmed. "I actually thought it was quite charming."

_What is going on here?_ Erika wondered. "You did?" She asked in an even lower sounding voice that her previous question.

Edith ignored Erika for the moment. "Didn't you have a sister as well? I believe her name was Danielle wasn't it?"

Almost instantly, Daemon's demeanor went from happy and jovial to gloomy and sad. "Yeah," he said quietly as his gaze went from Edith to the track he was sitting on. "Danielle was my sister."

_What?_ Erika looked over at Daemon, stunned. This was the first time Daemon had ever mentioned having a sister. Glancing around the roundhouse, she could tell that most of the other engines were just as stunned as she was. She'd have to find out more about this Danielle.

"I'm sorry Daemon," Edith apologized. "Did I strike a nerve?"

"Kinda," Daemon admitted. "Forgive me lil' darlin', but my sister is a bit of a sore subject with me and one I don't really like talkin' about. I sure do hope ya understand."

Edith nodded. "I do Daemon," Edith said reassuringly. "And again, I apologize if I upset you."

"That's all right lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "No harm done."

A short while later, Daemon was called out to take a freight train up the Arlesburgh Line and Edith took his place in the roundhouse next to Erika, giving the sisters a brief time to talk before Erika was called out on her next assignment. As they talked, Erika decided that Edith had just been toying with Daemon and that her niceness towards him was a carefully constructed sham. "So," Erika said. "When are going to let him have it?"

Edith was confused. "Let who have what Erika?"

"Well Daemon of course," Erika said, feeling like she was pointing out the insanely obvious. "Who else would I be talking about?"

"I have no idea Erika," Edith replied honestly. "And why would I want to 'let Daemon have it' as you say?"

Now Erika was certain something was wrong with Edith. "Didn't you hear him? He called you lil' darlin'."

"Of course I heard him," Edith said. "Didn't you hear me say, I'd be offended if he _didn't_ call me lil' darlin'?"

Erika felt like she was losing control. "Yes but, you weren't really serious about that were you? You're just setting him up, right? Toying with him as it were?"

Edith looked like appalled. "Erika, whatever did I say to give you or anyone else that impression?"

The expression on Erika's face turned much darker. "You mean you were serious about that?"

"Yes Erika, I was," Edith informed her. "I'm not setting Daemon up for anything. The intention of setting Daemon up for some kind of a fall is the furthest thing from my mind and will continue to be so going forward."

Erika tried one last desperate attempt to get Edith to see things her way. "B-but he calls himself a GS-8 class, and our cousin to boot."

If Erika was expecting that to outrage Edith, she was sorely disappointed. "So what if he does? He might not have been built by the same hands that built us, but that doesn't make him any less our cousin."

Erika felt her steam pressure begin to rise a little too high. "HE'S NOT OUR COUSIN!"

"Well maybe to you he's not," Edith told her sister. "But the Cotton Belt builders who constructed him might think otherwise. Or have you forgotten that they used a scaled down template of our GS-1 brothers to build him?"

Erika let a long plume of steam out of her blow-off, wanting to say something in response to what Edith had just told her. But she suddenly found she had nothing to say.

Her silence was the answer Edith had expected. "That's what I thought Erika," she said.

Although she sighed deeply, Erika still wasn't going to let it go. The mere idea that her sister could actually be friendly towards Daemon or worse, like him, outraged Erika. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

Edith rolled her eyes. Henry had told her that there was a long standing feud between Erika and Daemon and that no one really seemed to know why. "Oh Erika, grow up. I'm far too old to be consumed by petty things like someone calling me cousin or lil' darlin' or whatever. And so are you. Besides, denying or debating it would be denying or debating the truth which, as my engineer Brett the Third would say, is the very definition of insanity. I personally don't think he's wrong in that belief. Sitting in that shed for all the years I did, I had the chance to think long and hard about my life, the triumphs I've had and the mistakes I've made." She snorted. "There was little else I could do actually. And one big mistake that sticks out in my mind was my refusal to accept Ella as my sister. Now while I've since come to terms with that, it's still hurts greatly because as much as I'd like to, I doubt I will ever have the chance to set things right with her."

"So what's that got to do with me?" Erika demanded.

"Everything little sister," Edith counseled her. "Whether you like it or not Erika, Daemon is as much your cousin as he is mine. I for one am proud to call him a cousin because it only increases the remaining number of our family as it were. If you don't watch yourself, there may just come a day when you find yourself in a situation similar to mine… having the best of intentions, but being full of regrets because you realize you missed your chance to do something about it and it's far too late for you to do anything about it now."

Erika still wondered what had happened to sister since the last time she'd seen her.

The next morning all of the American built engines on the island gathered in the Tidmouth yards for the beginning of the festival and there was a feeling of great excitement in the air. A stage with a podium had been set up near the tracks and Sir Topham Hatt prepared to speak to the people that had come from far and wide to enjoy the festival. Also on the stage were Lady Hatt, Sir Robert Norramby, Yvette Fowler, Bruce, Samantha, Brett the Third and few others.

Sir Topham Hatt raised his hands and asked for quiet. "Thank you one and all for coming today on what Sir Robert Norramby, the others you see here on the stage and myself all hope will be but the first day of the First Annual American Steam Days Festival. Here on the Island of Sodor, we love all of our engines no matter where they may come from. However, in special recognition of America's birthday, we honor our American cousins, their fine locomotives and the hard work they do for us here on the island."

Daemon looked around at the other engines as Sir Topham Hatt continued his speech. He'd met Rosie for the first time earlier this morning and she'd immediately taken an almost uncomfortable liking to him. Even now, she was eyeing him with the gaze of a lovestruck teenager and Daemon was beginning to see why her demeanor sometimes irritated Thomas. Erika had even teased him about it a little, to which he'd simply replied, "Sorry, this engine runs alone."

He'd also met Caitlin and Connor for the first time earlier in the morning as well. Daemon had taken an immediate liking to Caitlin, though she was perhaps a little bit of the over-emotional type. Connor was nice enough too but now that that he was in the presence of Hank they seemed to be more interested in debating which of them was better, who could race faster, who had made the run from Chicago to New York faster or any one of a seemingly endless list of topics rather than participating in the festival. Their antics started to irritate Daemon. Who cared about all this nonsense in the first place?

"All I know is that I won the Great Daily Race more often than you did Pennsy," Connor boasted.

"It's Hank," the Pennsylvania K4 class engine hissed. "And at least I'm not the one who blew his rods seven times trying to win that race every day."

"No," Connor admitted. "You only blew your rods four times."

Edith was parked just to the left of Hank and two tracks left of Connor. Their constant arguing was starting to make her firebox overheat as well. Sir Topham Hatt was starting to have to raise his voice just so he could be heard over them. "Shhht," she warned them both with a stern expression.

If Edith was truly hoping that would settle the two long standing rivals down a little, she was sadly mistaken because it failed miserably. Neither Connor nor Hank had even heard her and they were now starting to debate the shortcomings of the Penn Central merger. "That's the problem with you Pennsy types," Connor growled angrily. "Your policy of deferred maintenance is what doomed the Penn Central merger from the very start!"

"Did get a load of coal in your boiler?" Hank shot back. "New York Central's flagrant mismanagement of the Penn Central merger is what doomed it!"

"As I recall, you came to us begging for the merger," Connor smugly stated. "That's because we were in better financial shape that you were and you wanted us to take pity on you."

"We did NO such thing!" Hank protested loudly.

"Well then how about this," Connor yelled. "It was Pennsylvania's former management who dominated Penn Central's management, forcing all the former New York Central executives out because they could never agree on anything! And the reason why they couldn't was because we had a forward thinking management in the 'transportation business' while you had a backwards thinking management in the 'railroad business!'"

That did it. Hank lost his temper. "Why you dirty, over-stuffed…"

Before anything more could be said, a loud deep whistle erupted next to him. "YAAAAAAH," he yelled as the noise scared him and finally got both of them to quiet down.

Edith and the others had heard enough. "Shut up, both of you!" She snorted in exasperation. "Good Lord!" Edith turned to Caitlin. "Are they always like this?"

"They're worse than this," Caitlin sighed.

Edith snorted angrily again and glared hotly at the two eastern rivals. "Never catch any self-respecting _western_ engine behaving so immaturely."

Edith wasn't the only one who was made. As Hank and Connor looked around them, they could see that Daemon, Erika and Rosie were all furious at them. Some people in the crowd were looking back at them in fear. But worst of all was Sir Topham Hatt who had halted his speech and now stood beside the podium tapping his foot impatiently, his hand on his hip and the same furious expression that all of the other engines, including a few of the British ones that had yet to leave on their daily duties, wore.

"Sorry," Connor said meekly. "We'll be quiet."

Hank didn't speak.

Sir Topham Hatt was content to let the berating Edith had given them settle the problem for the time being. However, he made a mental note to have a little chat with them about their behavior before the day was over. Nodding sharply once at the pair, he returned to podium and resumed his speech.

"Yazzum, razzum, frazzum nit wit pole cats," Daemon muttered under his breath. "Ya think they would've stopped arguin' with the Penn Central merger. Guess that just made it worse."

Erika had to agree with what Daemon said. Having lived on Sodor a year longer than Daemon, she was all too familiar with Connor and Hank's rivalry. "Their constant bickering and racing to see who's better is going to get someone hurt someday," she feared.

Daemon almost couldn't believe what he'd heard. "They race each other?"

Erika nodded. "Mostly at night, when there isn't much traffic on line. Caitlin does too, though she's not quite as fanatical about it as those two are." She rolled her eyes. "If only just."

Daemon shook his head. "Someone needs ta cool those two hotheads down before they kill someone."

Thinking about her deceased sister, Elena, Erika couldn't have agreed more.

Up on the stage, Sir Topham Hatt finished his speech. "And with that, I declare the American Steam Days Festival… open!"

There was loud thunder of applause from the crowd as they began to fan out to meet and greet the engines. A few of them were cautious as they approached Connor and Hank, but soon found that both engines were quite friendly and talkative when they weren't busy arguing with each other. In no time, they all had a small crowd gathered around them listening to their tales of years long gone and memories far in the past. Most were eager to take pictures with the engines and they were all more than willing to pose.

Daemon laughed as one overly-excited boy posed for his picture by climbing all the way up on to his smokebox just behind his bell. "Be careful up there little fella," he said with a smile. "It's a long way down from there." The picture was taken without a hitch though and the boy climbed back down with ease.

All too soon though, it was time for the first excursion trips of the festival, consisting of a train to Peel Godred pulled by Erika and one up Thomas's branch to Ffarquahar pulled by Caitlin. Later in the day, Rosie was scheduled to take an excursion to Arlesburgh while Hank would take one down Edward's branch to Brendam. Tomorrow, Daemon would repeat the Peel Godred excursion that Erika was taking now and Edith would handle one to Crovan's Gate. After that, Erika and Connor would double head between Ffarquahar and Kirk Ronan while Daemon and Edith were scheduled to double head a special dinner and wine train between Tidmouth and Vicarstown that would include a tour of the nearly completed new engine facility and turntable as well as a presentation given by both Sir Topham Hatt and Bruce of the still-unfinished New Line and what its uses would be once it was open.

Sarah and Bruce were chatting with each other as she headed over towards Erika's cab. "Thanks for breakfast this morning Bruce," she said. "I enjoyed it. And the company was nice too."

"You're welcome Sarah," Bruce responded. "And I thank you as well."

"Maybe we can have lunch together today?" Sarah suggested.

"If I can get away from the crowds long enough, then sure," Bruce said.

Erika frowned slightly as she heard the exchange. All right, that was it. Time for her to intervene and find out what was going on here. But by the time she opened her mouth to speak, Samantha had already cracked her throttle and started her towards the mainline. Erika blew her whistle in warning to make sure no one was in her way as she went to go meet her excursion.

Erika chuffed along towards Peel Godred at a comfortable pace. She was feeling great. Samantha had her running easy, Sarah had her fire good and hot and Erika was keenly aware that many of people she was taking on this special train were children. The only thing that could've made this run better was if her big, strong express had been allowed to pull it with her.

The thought of it brought a smile to her face. There was no passenger she enjoyed having ride with her more than a full of wonder wide-eyed child. Thinking back to her days pulling excursions in the States, she laughed. Every time she stopped somewhere along the way, she had always made sure that at least one child got to tour her cab and meet her crew. Often, it was far more than that, but at least one.

They never failed to be awed by the sheer sight of all the "levers, gauges, valves and gadgets" that were all over Erika's cab. They were also always full questions, wondering what this lever did, what did that valve do and what happened when you pulled this cord? Erika was always delighted by it.

Some of them though, got a little scared when they were first shown the fire in Erika's firebox. But usually after some explanation of exactly what it was doing, they were more fascinated than afraid. The other thing that sometimes made the kids nervous was when they blew Erika's whistle but it was also the one thing the kids loved to do the most. And it usually only took one or two times before that nervousness dissipated and they'd be blowing her whistle with more gusto than Samantha normally did.

Once in Peel Godred, Erika made sure a few kids got a "tour" of her cab before she was taken off the train for servicing. Erika had even pouted a bit when the passengers were ushered over to a local restaurant for a special luncheon followed by a historical presentation about the development of the steam locomotive in the United States. As Samantha and Sarah greased her bearings and prepared her for the return trip, Erika burst out laughing.

"What's with you?" Sarah asked her.

"It's the all kids riding her today," Samantha answered for Erika. "She's having the time of her life entertaining them."

"You said it," Erika agreed. "You think we'll have enough time for pictures with the kids before we head back to Tidmouth?"

"I guess that would depend on how long the history lesson lasts and how many questions those people have when it's over," Samantha admitted. "But if we have some time, we'll make sure you get to spend it with the kids… young and old alike."

"You mean like Sir Robert Norramby?" Erika asked.

"Exactly like Sir Robert Norramby," Samantha agreed with a smile.

Erika laughed. For an Earl just past 60 years of age, Sir Robert sure did have a bit of a child-like streak in him, especially when it came to steam locomotives. He was probably the only person on the Island of Sodor who loved them more than Sir Topham Hatt. The fact that he owned one of only two preserved P7 class Pacifics and the only J3 class Hudson remaining was something of a testament to this. Still, she sometimes wondered how Sir Robert and Caitlin were able to get Connor and Hank to stop arguing with each other for more than five minutes whenever they were in the same area.

When Sarah and Samantha completed their maintenance work, they got Erika turned around and recoupled to the train for the return trip to Tidmouth. Sarah checked her watch. Half past twelve. The luncheon / presentation was scheduled to go on for another thirty minutes and then there would probably be at least another 30 minutes to an hour of mingling and photos before the return trip got underway. That meant it would at least 3 pm before they rolled back into Tidmouth… long past the lunch hour.

She thought about her offer of lunch to Bruce earlier and rolled her eyes. Earlier that morning, she'd stopped for breakfast in a local café and had been particularly surprised to run into Bruce at the same place. They'd ended up enjoying their meal together and sharing a bit of small talk about the festival. The idea to invite him to lunch had been a spur of the moment thing and she was actually surprised at herself for doing it.

Looking back now though and giving it some thought, she was reasonably confident that Bruce had accepted her offer merely so as not to show her how ridiculous the offer had been. There was no way she could expect Bruce to wait that long for her to return and have lunch together. It was unrealistic. And she'd been so focused at that moment on making the offer, she hadn't taken the time to decide if the offer was even feasible.

_Note to self,_ Sarah thought. _Don't make spur of the moment offers like that in the future._

Across the cab, Samantha noticed Sarah shaking her head. "What's wrong Sarah?"

"Nothing," Sarah sighed heavily. "Just a boneheaded mistake is all."

Back at the Tidmouth roundhouse, the engines that were not pulling excursions were having just as much fun as Erika was entertaining those who came to see them. It had even managed to get Connor and Hank to stop arguing with each other, at least for a little while. No matter what rivalries may have existed there was an unwritten rule amongst locomotives, especially steam locomotives, that simply said all rivalries disappeared, even if only temporarily, when there were children nearby.

After this morning's dignified display however, Daemon wondered if Connor and Hank needed some remedial education into the validity of that rule. He resolved to keep a close eye on those two and take action if necessary to preserve the air of awe, wonder and good feelings surrounding the festival… especially in the children who were present.

He wasn't the only one. Ever since setting them straight earlier in the day, Edith had been keeping one eye on the amassed crowd and another on "those two foul-tempered eastern nitwits." Twice since the morning's incident, she'd had to stop them from getting out of line again and she'd about reached her tolerance limit when it came to those two. It made her wish, not for the first time, that she was a human herself. If she was, she'd have already paddled Connor and Hank's backsides by now.

_Ah the joys of being "Mother Hubbard" all over again,_ Edith thought. At least now she had a helping hand in Daemon who was just as put off by Connor and Hank's nonsense as they all were. Being a perceptive lady, Edith was quite certain that Daemon was planning some way to teach them a lesson if these shenanigans kept up. So far though, if he was, he was keeping to himself.

Finally, Hank departed with the excursion to Brendam, leaving Connor with no one to argue with and therefore, silent. It was a big relief to the other engines gathered, particularly Caitlin who had just returned from Ffarquahar. "How were Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde?" Caitlin asked.

"Well lil' darlin'," Daemon said frankly. "Goin' by what you said this mornin' about their behavior, I'd say the same as always."

"That bad hmmm?" Caitlin rolled her eyes.

Sir Robert Norramby had been on Caitlin's trip and had missed all of the arguing between Connor and Hank. And at the moment, it seemed like he didn't particularly care to hear about it either as he walked straight over to Daemon. "Well, Daemon," he said. "How are you adjusting to life on the Island of Sodor?"

"Oh I'm takin' ta it real nice Sir Robert, sir," Daemon answered. "Everyone 'round here has been real friendly. Well… most everyone anway."

Edith frowned as she had a feeling Daemon was referring to Erika with that last statement. But she was frowning more at Erika's behavior than Daemon's comment.

"Well good," Sir Robert replied. He leaned forward a bit. "You know Daemon, I have to confess, we have met once before."

The news surprised Daemon and he let it show. "We did sir? Where was that?"

"At the 1990 National Railway Historical Society convention in St. Louis," Sir Robert revealed.

Daemon was shocked. "You was there sir?"

"Yes," Sir Robert confirmed. "I was quite a bit younger back then. At the time I was vacationing in Florida and when I heard about the convention, I decided I couldn't miss it. So I extended my vacation a few days and went to the convention."

"Well shoot Sir Robert, sir that means ya done seen me and Christine and Michelle and whole load o' others," Daemon said proudly. "Might have even seen Ella there in the museum as well."

A tear formed in Edith's eye at the mention of her younger sister.

Sir Robert laughed. "Indeed I did Daemon. Indeed I did. Heck, I even rode behind Christine and Michelle and you."

Again, Daemon was shocked. "You rode on o' my excursions?"

"Yes Daemon, I did," Sir Robert said with a smile.

"Well stuff my firebox and call me stoked," Daemon replied.

"And I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed the ride," Sir Robert complimented. "It's a shame though that I didn't get to ride behind Vivian."

Vivian had been one of the stars of the event even though she hadn't pulled any excursion trains. She was Norfolk & Western number 1218, the only example of that railroad's 2-6-6-4 Class A locomotives remaining in existence. Restored to operation in in 1987, she had a brief career in excursion service before being retired again in 1994. At the time, Vivian had been the most powerful steam locomotive in operation, beating out Athena, Union Pacific Challenger number 3985 for the title.

"Well I sure am pleased that ya enjoyed your trip with me," Daemon said. "And I hope ya see fit ta ride behind me again some time."

"Oh didn't I tell you," Sir Robert asked. "I'm on your trip tomorrow with Edith out to Vicarstown. For old time's sake as it were."

"Well that's great Sir Robert," Daemon said with a beaming smile. "It'll be my pleasure ta have ya aboard my train."

Someone behind Sir Robert cleared his throat, indicating he wanted to say something. It was Bruce. Sir Robert turned to greet him. "Ah, you must be Mister Bruce, Daemon's driver?"

"That I am sir," he confirmed.

Sir Robert extended his hand. "Sir Robert Norramby, Earl of Sodor. Very well met good sir."

Bruce accepted the handshake. "Thank you your grace. A pleasure to meet you as well."

"Oh please, call me Sir Robert," he responded.

"Very well, Sir Robert," Bruce said. "Listen, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation you were having with Daemon. Did I hear correctly that you rode behind him back in '90?"

"Indeed," Sir Robert said. "And a very fun trip it was."

"Well I've got a little proposition for you then," Bruce said.

"I'm listening."

"How would you like to take that trip to Vicarstown tomorrow in Daemon's cab?" Bruce asked. "In the jump seat behind me?"

The gleam in Sir Robert's eye was like that of an excited little boy who had just caught sight of the toy he'd been pestering his parents about for weeks sitting under the tree on Christmas morning. "That sir, is an invitation I am only too happy to accept. Uh, if it's all right with Daemon that is?"

For a response, Daemon blew his whistle, startling a few of the nearby festival goers who were unprepared for such a reaction.

Sir Robert laughed. "I'll take that as a resounding yes."

"I think you should," Bruce agreed.

"Listen, have you had lunch yet?"

"Uh no," Bruce said. "Not yet." Though it was later than he preferred, he was waiting for Sarah to return from Peel Godred.

"Then Bruce, would you do me the honor of lunching with myself and Lady Norramby?" Sir Robert asked. "I have some ideas and questions I would like to present to you and Mister Brett. He's already agreed to join us."

Bruce scratched his head for second until he recalled the name of Edith's driver. What could Sir Robert want with both of them? Bruce glanced at his watch. Though he told Sarah he'd have lunch with her, he'd also said if he could get away from the crowds long enough. And one usually did not tell the Earl of Sodor no. "It would be my pleasure Sir Robert."

"Excellent," Sir Robert smiled.

"Give me a few minutes to tell my fireman what's going on?"

"Of course, of course," Sir Robert assured him. "Whenever you're ready."

"He seems like a friendly sort," Daemon observed as Bruce, Brett the Third and Sir Robert left to have lunch.

"Sir Robert Norramby?" Edith remarked. "He's a very kind man indeed. And he loves steam locomotives. He's rather like a child in some ways but he's no pushover and he's not stupid either."

"I wonder if he knows that he's owner o' one o' the biggest rivals ever ta run on American rails and the other ain't that far away?" Daemon wondered.

"I'm sure he does," Edith replied dryly. "But I suppose as long as they don't cause any real trouble, he's content to let it go. Still, you can't help but wonder how long it's going to be before they do cause real trouble."

"No kiddin'," Daemon agreed. "Hey lil' darlin', I got a question or ya."

"What Daemon?"

"I couldn't help but notice that there writin' on your skirtin' right above your cylinder," Daemon said. "What is that?"

Edith smiled. "It's the names of all three of the drivers I've had in my lifetime," she said. "They're all family. My current driver, Brett the Third is the son of my second driver, Brett Junior and the grandson of my original driver, Brett Senior."

"Wow," Daemon said, clearly impressed. "Is that a fact?"

"It is," Edith confirmed. "It's incredibly rare for the members of one family to be the caretakers of a specific engine for its entire life and for that reason, I feel very fortunate to have been cared for by one family. So much so that, with the exception of my own GS class family, I tend to think of myself as a member of Brett's family more than any other." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Don't tell Yvette Fowler I said that though. She'd be very upset with me if she were she to know that."

"Don't ya worry none lil' darlin'," Daemon assured her. "I won't say a thing ta her. So that then begs the question, is there a Brett the Fourth yet?"

Edith smiled. "Not as of yet, no," she admitted. "Brett the Third only got married a couple of years ago. He married a relatively young and considerably wealthy Austrian baroness named Anastasia. Though they have yet to have any children, both of them have assured me that the family tradition will continue."

"Ya sure about that?"

"Oh yes," Edith said. "It's already continued to a degree. Each one of my engineers married their wives right in front of me and I've always been introduced to the new generation when he's arrived. I first met Brett the Third when he was but a wee little baby of only a month's age. He was so cute, it was one of the few times in my life that I'd wished I was human. Just so I could cradle him in my arms and hold him tightly against me. Even so, I knew when I first saw him that when he took over for his father at my throttle, he would have strong but comforting hands. I was right."

"That's wonderful lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "Ya sure are a lucky lady."

"Thank you Daemon," Edith replied. "I didn't always think I was so lucky. But you're very right. I am a very lucky lady indeed. I've had some wondrous, joyous times and I look forward to having many more in the years to come. I only wish Ella and Elena had been as lucky as Erika and myself. And you as well my dear cousin."

Daemon smiled widely. "Why thank ya lil' darlin'. That's right kind o' ya ta say and I sure do appreciate it."

It was just past 3:30 when Erika arrived back in Tidmouth with the Peel Godred excursion and she almost couldn't believe her eyes when she steamed back into the yard. Edith and Daemon were sitting much as they had been when she left, with kids and adults all crowding around them for pictures. But in between the photo shots, they were talking, laughing and seemingly getting along quite nicely.

"So then my little steam puff says to me 'you look just like this other engine I know'," Edith said.

"Wait, wait a second," Daemon laughed. "Little steam puff?"

Edith blushed. "Yes, I call Henry 'my little steam puff.' He is a Ten-Wheeler type after all. Never thought I'd see the day when I fell for someone that much smaller than me. But as Brett the Third sometimes says, 'if a gorgeous Austrian baroness can fall in love with a coal-burnt steam jockey like me, well weirder things have been known to happen'."

Daemon burst out laughing. He couldn't remember hearing anything so funny in quite a long time. "Oh that's just too good lil' darlin'. I's gonna have ta razz him a bit about that."

"Careful now Daemon," Edith playfully warned him. "Henry just might return the favor by razzing you about your woman."

"Who me?" Daemon said. "Aw no lil' darlin'. I ain't got a lady. Ain't had one for quite a long time."

Erika's expression grew cross and she was about to open her mouth and demand what was going on. But something made her stop. It was Sarah. She and Bruce were talking nearby and she had a very disappointed look on her face. Something had happened. She managed a kind of smile as they parted and she walked away looking depressed. Bruce didn't seem to be in a very cheerful mood either.

She called out to him as he started walking back towards Daemon. "Excuse me, Bruce?"

"Yes Erika?" he answered her.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Bruce didn't really have to get back to Daemon yet. Mike was watching over him quite well. He strolled over towards her. "Sure Erika. What's on your mind?"

Erika wasn't really sure how she should approach the subject with Bruce. Love and relationships were a very delicate matter where humans were concerned. Still, she wanted to look out for her firewoman, so she decided on the blunt and direct approach. "What are you intentions with Sarah, my firewoman?"

The question threw Bruce for a loop. "What are you talking about?"

"I've seen that the two of you have been getting … well rather comfortable with one another," Erika observed. "So I ask again, what are your intentions with Sarah?"

To say that Bruce was irritated and put off by Erika's question was an understatement and he let it show. "Frankly Erika, I really don't see where that is any of your business."

"I beg to differ with you Bruce," Erika said flatly. "Sarah is a member of my crew and anything that concerns her most definitely concerns me."

"Really?" Bruce challenged her. There was an unwritten rule amongst locomotives and the private lives of their crew that Erika seemed to have forgotten. "I still think it's none of your business. Be that as it may, if it will satisfy your curiosity, I'll humor you. The only thing I can honestly say at the moment is that I would like to get to know Sarah better than I currently do."

"Do you intend to marry her?"

Back in Erika's cab, Samantha squeezed her eyes shut and slapped her hand against her forehead. She shook her head in disbelief. This was not going to end well.

"Whoa Erika," Bruce growled. "I haven't even been on a date with her. So there is no way I could honestly answer that question right now and even if I could, I wouldn't. Because as I have said already… it is none of your business." He started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Erika demanded. "I'm not done talking to you yet."

Bruce whirled around. "That may very well be Erika, but I am done talking to you about it. You are not my keeper and you are not Sarah's keeper either. So back off."

Edith shook her head in disdain as Bruce returned to Daemon. "You disappoint me sister," she said.

Erika was surprised. "What did I do?"

"Oh Erika, Erika, Erika," Edith said. "I taught you a great many things when you first arrived in California, or at least I thought I did. And one of those things that I counseled you on is the rule that we engines do not interfere in the personal lives of our engineers or other crew members unless we are specifically asked to do so. And I am quite certain that Sarah did not ask you to grill Bruce about their relationship half steamed like you just did." Erika's silence confirmed Edith's belief. "You disappoint me sister."

Erika tried not to show how hurt she was by Edith's words.

"The problem with you Pennsy types," Connor taunted, "is that you're too stuffy and short sighted. Unable to see the true big picture or the true reality. It's what caused the failure of the Penn Central merger."

"And the problem with you Central types is that you're too full of yourselves and too careless as to what might concern others," Hank countered. "That is what caused the Penn Central failure Connor. Not our stuffy, short sightedness as you put it."

Daemon rolled his eyes as he prepared to be lined to take the excursion to Peel Godred. Heckle and Jeckle were at it again. The second day of the festival began much as the first one had… with Connor and Hank arguing and all of the engines were tiring of it. Even the normally insufferably cheerful, Rosie was giving them hard stares and secretly wishing her whistle was as strong as Daemon's or Edith's. Strong enough to get those two to shut up.

Even Caitlin had taken the precautionary measure of placing herself between "Tweedle Dumb" and "Tweedle Dumber" as she was starting to call them. Even that didn't appear to be helping matters much however, as they just argued around her. As a result, her smokebox was starting to hurt.

"Full of ourselves and careless?" Connor raged.

"That's right Central," Hank smiled.

"Is that why you think I most often won our Great Daily Race?" Connor challenged.

"What does that have to do with the Penn Central merger?" Hank demanded.

Before Connor could respond, they saw Sir Topham Hatt's car drive up and the two of them settled down if only as a show for him. Even so, it was a welcome reprieve. "We'll discuss this later," Connor grumbled.

"Fine by me… Hudson," Hank said, eagerly awaiting their next debate.

Neither of them saw Daemon, Edith or Erika glaring at them and even if they had, they wouldn't have cared. What did western engines have to do with the great rivalry and debate of the Pennsylvania versus the New York Central?

Edith shook her head and rolled her eyes skyward. At least she'd be away from them this afternoon, but she had no illusions that it would take a long morning to get there. "Looks like Old Mother Hubbard will be babysitting those two again today," she muttered.

"I tell ya lil' darlin'," Daemon said under his breath. "Them two dad gum, coal stuffed pole cats is startin' ta worry me. If they keep up this doggone nonsensical behavior o' theirs, they could very well ruin this festival for everyone. That includes us because if they destroy it, Sir Topham Hatt might not be so eager ta do somethin' like this again."

"I hate to say it Daemon, but you may be right," Edith agreed.

An idea formed in Daemon's mind of how they could teach Hank and Connor once and for all that their rivalry was getting bothersome to everyone else and that festivals where kids were present was not the place to continue debating it. "Hmmmm," he said quietly as he thought it over and how they could pull it off began to develop in his mind.

Sensing something was "afoot" Edith asked Daemon, "I get the distinct impression that you are planning something Daemon. Am I right?"

"Ya might be lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "But I'm gonna need a little help ta fully implement what I got in mind. And it might git me in a bit o' trouble. I's willin' ta chance that ta make sure that the people who's comin' ta this thing stay in good spirits. Especailly the youngin's. I'll be boiler blasted if I's just gonna sit back and watch them two ruin this whole thing. What about you lil' darlin'?"

"Whatever you've got cooking in that firebox of yours Daemon, I'm in," Edith assured him.

Daemon turned to Erika. "How's about you lil' darlin'?"

Erika whistled angrily. "Why should I help you do anything… Daemon?"

"Erika," Edith sternly warned her.

"Oh all right." Erika gave in if only because she was sick to the high hat of Connor and Hank's pointless rivalry herself. "What do you need from me?"

"Uh… well… forgive me for sayin' this, but you know Belle, right?" Daemon asked carefully.

Belle was a 2-6-4 Class 4 tank engine equipped with water cannons specially mounted to her sides. Painted blue with red trim, she carried the number 6120 and had a crest consisting of a flame, two dolphins and a crown on her sides. She, along with Flynn the Fire Truck, Horace the Fireboat and Harold the Helicopter, formed the core of Sodor's Search and Rescue Team. She had been one of the first responders to the wreck a year earlier that had nearly claimed both Erika and Gordon's lives.

"Yes," Erika said quietly. "I know her."

"Well I'm gonna need her help with this. If ya can git ta her, ya think ya can find it in yerself ta have her come see me?" He gestured towards Hank and Connor who were now just glaring at one another with unmitigated hostility. "Preferably outta earshot o' them two danged hot heads?"

Erika though about for a second, recollections of years long gone filling her mind. "Is that it?"

Daemon was a little upset that Erika didn't want to help more, but he let the issue go. "Yeah lil' darlin'. That's it."

Erika nodded once. "All right. I'll let her know."

"I thank ya for that little darlin'."

A short while later, Daemon was coupled up to the excursion and he steamed off to Peel Godred. As he barreled along at a comfortable pace and listened to the festival goers celebrating in the coaches he pulled, Daemon though more about his plan to teach Connor and Hank a lesson. He hated taking lessons to the extreme as he was planning in this case and he secretly hoped Connor and Hank would get the message from the others and settle down, at least for the duration of the festival. But if they didn't… well as Mister Howard had once told him, _Sometimes an engine's got to do what an engine's got to do._

Even so, he was still having some doubts about his plan. He'd revealed his plan to Bruce and Mike just after leaving Tidmouth and despite the fact that they'd both said they were behind it, Daemon was still apprehensive. Even though Bruce and Mike were behind it, Sir Topham Hatt certainly would not be and he'd would be more than a little upset if Daemon went through with his idea. He might be able to reroute the blame from Edith and spare her Sir Topham Hatt's wrath, but then he'd also tried to route blame away from Erika for a similar incident back in '54 that had been unsuccessful.

_Doing the right thing is never easy Daemon,_ Howard had once told him. _Doing the right thing knowing you'll get in trouble for it, and then accepting the consequences if you do it anyway for most is almost impossible. But at the end of the day, only you will be able to hold your head high and say, "It may not have been popular, but I did what was right. I did what needed to be done."_

He was still pondering the whole issue in his mind when he rolled into Peel Godred and was surprised to see Belle waiting for him at the station. She smiled and greeted him warmly, thankful to finally have an opportunity to meet the "new American country-boy" as some of the European styled engines were affectionately starting to call him. And as Daemon greeted Belle in response he saw the festival goers debark his train for the luncheon and presentation, particularly the children… excited, laughing and having the time of their lives.

That was enough for him. "Sometimes a engine's gotta do what a engine's gotta do," he said quietly.

"Sorry, what was that Daemon?"

"Huh?" Realizing he'd said that last statement louder than he'd intended, he corrected himself. "Oh, nothin' lil' darlin'. Listen, I got a problem that I need your help in solvin'. Actually, all o' us back in Tidmouth gots a problem. And we's gonna need your help and the rest o' your team if we're gonna fix it."

"So Samantha said to my driver," Belle replied. "What's the trouble?"

Slowly, Daemon laid it all out… Connor and Hank's rivalry, their constant arguing, the fact that were starting to scare those who attended the festival and Daemon's concern that they'd ruin the whole event and any chances for future events. "So ya see what I'm talkin' about here lil' darlin'?"

Belle shook her head in disbelief. "I knew those two had a rivalry going, but I didn't realize it was that bad."

"I don't know all the details behind it," Daemon confessed. "But tarnation, if Caitlin's story is accurate, and I got no reason ta think it ain't, this dad gum nonsense been goin' on for eighty years or more."

"So what's your plan?"

"All right lil' darlin', here it is," Daemon said and spent the next half hour giving her the details. When he was finished, he asked. "So, can I count on you and your team's help?"

"Does Sir Topham Hatt know about this plan?"

"Do ya think he'd condone it if he did?"

Belle chuckled. She liked Daemon. "No," she said. "He wouldn't." She though it over for all of three seconds before giving him her answer. "All right Daemon, we're in. What do you need from us?"

"Well lil' darlin', lemme tell ya."

Daemon rolled back into Tidmouth just past 3:30 that afternoon. Edith had returned from her run to Crovan's Gate a short while before, but Erika and Connor were still on their way back from Ffarquahar so for the moment it was reasonably quiet. Daemon took a moment to survey the surroundings. The locomotives participating in the festival, including himself, had been moved to three side tracks paralleling the main line to allow the engines still toiling away with daily chores access to the roundhouse, fuel rack, coaling tower and water tower. But even so, the festival engines could get to the facilities and the main line easy enough when their excursions were ready.

Daemon was parked with Edith on his left and Hank behind of him. Caitlin was behind of Edith and Rosie was behind Caitlin. The track immediately to the right of Daemon and Hank was empty for the moment. He still hoped he wouldn't have to resort to getting nasty, but if he did, he hoped Erika and Connor would not be parked behind him or Edith. With only an hour or so to go before he and Edith were due to take the dinner & wine excursion to Vicarstown, he doubted that would be the case.

His instincts were correct as a little over twenty minutes later Erika and Connor arrived and parked on the empty track next to Daemon and Hank. Daemon could almost foresee it. The crowds were dispersing in preparation for the special to be pulled by him and Edith. _Please don't git started,_ Daemon silently prayed. _Please just keep your mouths shut._

It was for naught though as Hank started in on Connor right away. "My, my, my, how the mighty have fallen," Hank taunted. "Look at the big Hudson. So big and strong, he needs another engine to help him pull an excursion. And a girl engine at that."

Erika whistled angrily. "Don't you two dare involve me in your silly little argument!"

"Ooooh, a feisty one," Hank said, apparently having forgotten he'd known Erika for a little over a year. "Tell me big, mighty Hudson, how did it feel to have a girl leading you?"

"Shut up you loud mouthed K4!"

"Oh, did I hit a nerve there Connor," Hank laughed. "Maybe you like Erika? Maybe you'd actually like to go "double-heading" with her again?"

Erika was aghast. While she didn't have anything against Connor in that respect, he just wasn't her type. No could ever replace Gordon in her eyes. Her big, strong express. "Are you crazy?" Erika yelled.

"Why you egotistical, oversized firecracker!" Connor raged. "If I had arms, I'd belt you in your faceplate!"

With their voices getting louder with each exchange, Daemon glanced around and saw that a fair number of people who were still in the area were starting to back away from the heated exchange. A few of the kids were even starting to ask their parents why the engines were fighting and a couple even looked like they were going to start crying. In that moment, for first time since arriving on Sodor, the normally easy-going and unflappable Daemon lost his temper.

Next to him. Edith could see Daemon had finally reached the breaking point and was actually impressed he'd kept his temper for as long as he had about the whole situation. "Daemon?" she asked him.

"That doggone does it!" he growled angrily. "I's had it with them over-inflated ego, coal stuffed, bat-flattin' pole cats! It's time they had a refresher class in how ta behave themselves at these here festivals! Especially where there's youngin's around! Bruce?"

"Already made the call," Bruce assured him.

Daemon glanced over at Edith. "Ya with me lil' darlin'?"

The hard, determined expression on Edith's face was all the answer he needed, but she answered him anyway. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

"That's easy lil' darlin'. Follow my lead."

Erika watched the discussion between Edith and Daemon with growing fascination. "What are you doing Daemon?" she demanded to know.

"Never ya mind lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "Just gonna go kick a couple o' dirty perka-shorkin'-fillabunkabertin' no good pole cats right in the dad gum tender!" He loudly steamed ahead onto the mainline with Edith gladly following him.

Erika's crew was just as fascinated and confused by what was happening as Erika herself was. Sarah and Samantha both watched as Daemon and Edith steamed off one moment, then went past Erika's other side in reverse a moment later. "What's going on here?" Sarah wondered.

"I don't know," Samantha admitted. "But I got a feeling that Connor and Hank are about to get what they deserve."

For their part, Connor and Hank were so fixated on each other that they never noticed Daemon and Edith had stormed off. "At least _I_ never derailed on Horseshoe Curve, K4!"

"Of course you didn't you idiotic simpleton!" Hank admitted. "You never went around Horseshoe Curve! You, on the other hand, had Gulf Curve near Little Falls to contend with. So was that you who crashed there with Lake Shore Limited in 1940? Oh no, that was one of your brothers because he was cut up for scrap on the spot! You'd never catch a Pennsy engine going that much over the speed restrictions!"

"Is that a fact K4?" Connor challenged. "Then perhaps you'd care to explain just what the hell your brother was doing when he wrecked The Broker in '51? That was one of the worst wrecks in American history! And what was he doing? Why, surprise, surprise… he was going too fast! And through a construction area to boot! I would've thought you Pennsy types would've at least been smart enough to slow down for track work!"

"And what about you J3?" Hank roared in retaliation. "I would've though your brother would've been smart enough to slow down for the sharpest curve in the entire New York Central system! Instead he got all smashed up against a rock face! Talk about stupid and idiotic! No wonder the Penn Central merger failed! You Central guys can't even follow your own speed restrictions!"

"What about your brother running The Broker?" Connor shot back. "You think he just magically throttled up to a speed faster than the Lake Shore was going when it wrecked?"

"Oh can you two just give it a rest for once!" Caitlin pleaded.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. "At least we didn't have the entire state of Maine's potato crop rot in Selkirk Yard!" Hank fired.

Caitlin rolled her eyes and whistled in exasperation.

"The hell you didn't," Connor reminded Hank. "That was back in '69. Penn Central was the order of the day and Pennsylvania's simple-minded managers were trying, and failing, to run the show! So don't blame the Central for the fact that all of Maine's potato farmers swore never to ship by rail again!"

During the entire exchange only Erika and her crew had noticed that Daemon and Edith had routed themselves to the Tidmouth turntable. With Connor and Hank raging at each other and Caitlin trying desperately to calm them down, it was an easy process for them to turn themselves and run back so they were tender to tender with the two warring eastern speedsters.

Satisfied that all was ready, Daemon glanced over at Edith and the two of them nodded once in unison. A second later, Daemon reversed and coupled up to Hank, startling the K4 out of his rage-induced stupor. "What the…? What are you doing? What's happening here?"

"A little remedial education into proper locomotive etiquette when attending festivals!" Daemon shouted than both Connor or Hank. "Now let's go ya dad gum ornery, bush-whackin' idgit!" He started off, dragging Hank with him. At first the K4 tried fighting Daemon but with Daemon's immensely superior tractive strength, he soon gave up and wondered where he was being taken. He hoped it wasn't the crusher.

Connor watched as Hank was dragged away. "Ha, ha, ha," he laughed. "So long you over-sized tea kettle! Enjoy your education!" A second later he was dumbstruck as he felt Edith couple up to him. "WHAT?"

"Did you really think you weren't going to be a part of this?" Edith demanded. "You foul-tempered, self-centered coffee pot?!"

"Foul tempered coffee pot!" Connor screamed. "Why I'll…"

"You'll do absolutely nothing young one except come with me right now!" Edith yelled above him. "And I suggest you release your brakes, or I'm liable to pull apart your running gear and rip out your stoker when I start up!" Connor's driver barely had time to get the brakes off before Brett the Third started Edith up and followed Daemon.

Erika, Caitlin and their crews were beyond shocked when they witnessed what Edith and Daemon were doing. "Where do you suppose those two are taking Jekyll and Hyde?" Caitlin wondered.

"I have no idea," Erika admitted. "But no way in hell am I going to miss it." To her crew she said. "Get me over to the turntable! I've got to see what happens!"

"Me too!" Caitlin told her own crew.

In Erika's cab, Sarah looked across at Samantha who merely shrugged. She maneuvered the reverse level and started backing Erika towards the turntable.

"So where are you taking me?" Hank wanted to know, somewhat fearful of the answer.

"You'll see when we git there," was Daemon's blunt response.

"You're not taking me to the crusher or the incinerator, are you?"

"Don't be absurd Hank," Daemon said flatly. "I may be pissed at ya and Connor but I ain't heartless. I wanna teach ya a lesson in manners. Not destroy ya."

Well that was relief. At least he was being spared that. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what Daemon had in mind for him. Looking ahead of himself, he saw Edith following them with Connor in tow. Whatever it was the two big Northerns had in mind, he and Connor were going to have to face it together. Hank winced. He almost wished he was facing whatever was in store for him alone.

After a relatively short trip, Daemon came to a stop and waited while a switch ahead of Hank was lined. Daemon then reversed and began shoving Hank back through the switch on the diverging route. Edith repeated the procedure with Connor after Daemon had gone through.

With wide eyes, Hank realized where they were going… Tidmouth Harbor! Had Daemon lied to him? Were they just going to cast him and Connor into the saltwater and leave them there to rot? No, that didn't make sense. But what if… oh no… were they being sent back to America? Had his rivalry with Connor pushed Sir Topham Hatt and Sir Robert Norramby too far? If they were being sent home, that meant they'd both out of work again! Left alone to waste away in a shed somewhere instead of being useful again. Hank couldn't imagine a worse fate than that and he actually found himself preferring a final trip through the incinerator than returning to a life of worthlessness back in the States.

Daemon shoved Hank through another switch while Edith took the diverging route and ended up side by side with Daemon, shoving an equally terrified Connor towards an uncertain fate.

"No!" Hank cried. "You can't send me home! I won't go home! If this is my fate, I beg you to put me in the crusher! Anything to spare me a life of uselessness!"

If a life of useless scared Hank more than being scrapped, then Connor was utterly terrified of the same thing. "Please Edith, no!" he screamed. "I'm a J3 Hudson! I was built to run! I can't survive wasting away to nothing again! Send me to the crusher with Hank!"

"Aw would you two ballast scorchers calm down," Daemon growled. "It ain't as dramatic as all that!"

_That's what you think,_ flashed though both Connor and Hank's minds. But as they approached the end of the track, both of them could see that there was no barge waiting for them and both Daemon and Edith were slowing down. A ray of hope appeared in Connor and Hank's minds. Maybe then they weren't being sent back to America. But if they weren't being sent home, just what did Daemon and Edith have in store for them? What was going to happen to them?

The two eastern rivals still felt their end was near when Daemon and Edith both stopped, halting their two hapless captives inches from the edge of the pier. For a second all was silent. Connor and Hank looked around fearfully, dreading what they might see. A distant whupping noise approached from behind them. Both of them then noticed that they were flanked by Belle and Flynn and out in the water was Horace. And suddenly, they both knew what was about to happen.

"Uh oh," Connor and Hank said in unison.

"Commence Operation: Cool it!" Daemon yelled.

The whupping noise above was Harold the Helicopter and he a special delivery for Connor and Hank… a giant bucket of ice cold water from the northern mainland. On Daemon's order, he dropped the load straight down on the hapless pair, hitting them both squarely on top of the boilers. The sudden shock sent a chill down both engines and they screamed "YAAAAAAAH!" together.

Thereafter, Belle, Flynn and Horace each turned their water cannons on the pair giving them both, thanks to Daemon's instructions and Harold's advance preparation, a liberal dousing of more just above freezing water. "Whoa!" Hank yelled. He sputtered and spat some of it out of his mouth. "Yeesh!"

Connor wasn't faring much better against the freezing onslaught. "Jeez! Stop!" he begged. "That… that's freezing."

"Of course it is ya dad gum idgit," Daemon said. "It's supposed ta cool ya hot heads down!" A splash of water nicked Daemon's tender, unpleasantly getting his attention. "Wowee… that _is_ cold." He uncoupled from Hank and looked at Edith. "Let's git turned back around while the kids bathe, shall we?"

Edith laughed. "Absolutely Daemon."

As they steamed away, Belle and her cohorts kept up the hose-down. "That's it boys," she encouraged as she sprayed Hank's boiler. "Make sure they get good and soggy!"

"You got it Miss Belle," Flynn called back as he stated hosing down Connor's drivers.

The elderly Horace laughed. "These two barnacle-bearin' barracudas ain't never gonna forget this!"

Connor sneezed as some of the water Horace was sending his way got in his nose. "Stop! Enough!" he complained. Next to him, Hank sputtered and wondered how much longer this was going to go on. Good Lord, that water was ice cold and was getting everywhere in into everything! Their boilers were soaked along with all of their wheels, rods, bearings, compressors, gears and even inside their cabs. Even their crews were sopping wet. "The heck with this!" Hank's engineer yelled as he made a hasty retreat out of the drenched engine.

"I'm outta here!" Connor's driver agreed.

As the cold shower continued, Erika and Caitlin appeared on the scene and bore witness to Daemon's plan. With wide eyes, Erika watched the two "mighty rivals" slowly become reduced to a pair of shivering fools. "Unbelievable," she said as Samantha guided her over to a spur where she could watch the show.

Caitlin followed her example and burst out laughing when she saw what was happening to "Jekyll and Hyde". "Oh this is too good!" she cheered. "Finally! Maybe cooler heads will prevail." With a big smile on her face, she glanced at Erika. "I do so like your cousin Erika," she said.

Erika wondered if Caitlin needed a cold wash down as well.

Hank's teeth were starting to chatter from the ice cold shower and some of the water that had been sprayed on him had gone down his stack and even gotten into his firebox. That had immediately doused his fire making him feel that much colder. "P-p-p-p-please. S-s-s-s-so c-c-c-c-c-cold!"

Connor's fire had been extinguished in a similar fashion and he was trembling more than Hank. His wheels rattled against the rails and his soaked driver feared Connor might break one or shatter a driver. "C-c-c-c-c-come o-o-o-o-o-on," he begged. "E-e-e-e-enough."

Daemon and Edith returned, now facing the harbor and observing the spectacle unfolding in front of them. Edith couldn't help but laugh at the scene "Well, maybe that will finally get those two loudmouths to shut their faceplates!" She looked over at Belle. "Make sure you get behind their ears too Belle," she said, playing on the popular human expression.

"Right you are Miss Edith," Belle replied.

"O-o-o-o-o-oh s-s-s-s-s-shut u-u-u-u-up," Connor complained.

"Shut up yourself!" Edith fired back. "It's your own damn fault that we're being forced to discipline you this way."

"B-b-b-b-b-but…" Connor began.

"Not another word," Edith screamed. "Or this will go on even longer!"

"N-n-n-n-n-n-n-no," Connor said. He sneezed again. "P-p-p-p-p-p-please."

Hank agreed. He was almost certain his boiler was about to crack. "M-m-m-m-m-m-make t-t-t-t-t-them s-s-s-s-s-s-stop."

A bizarre, off-beat clanging sound began to be heard and they realized that Hank and Connor's bells were involuntarily ringing because of their constant shaking and quivering. Bruce climbed up on to Daemon's cab roof and watched for a couple of minutes as "Operation: Cool it" continued. Neither Hank nor Connor bothered to protest. They were so cold, they could barely move their mouths now. "What do you think Daemon," Bruce asked after a bit. "Have those two had enough yet."

"Yeah I think so," Daemon admitted. "All right, that's enough!"

Belle and the others finally cut off their water cannons and a collective sigh of relief from Hank and Connor was heard though they were still violently shivering.

"Lil' darlin' I wanna thank ya and Flynn and Horace and Harold for helpin' me out with this," Daemon smiled at the rescue engine.

"You're welcome Daemon," Belle smiled sweetly in return. "Anything else we can do for you?"

"Naw, not at the moment," Daemon said. He gestured towards Edith. "Lil' darlin' here and I will handle this from here on. Thanks again."

"You're welcome.e"

Daemon moved forward and coupled elephant style to Hank. "Let's go ya dad gum dirty pole cats," he growled. "I ain't finished with ya yet."

"Y-y-y-y-y-y-you-re n-n-n-n-not?" Hank asked with as much surprise as his frigid boiler could muster.

"Nope," Daemon confirmed.

"And you're not finished either," Edith said as she coupled up to Connor again.

The two GS class Northerns dragged Connor and Hank back through the switches that led to the harbor, then uncoupled and adjusted themselves through the same switches so that Daemon was nose to nose with Hank and Edith was likewise with Connor. As Erika and Caitlin quietly approached, Hank had a question.

"W-w-w-w-w-w-w-why d-d-d-d-d-d-d-did y-y-y-y-y-y-y-you d-d-d-d-d-do t-t-t-t-t-that?"

"Why in all danged tarnation are the two o' ya surprised?" Daemon demanded. "I's fed up with all the dad gum arguin' about who's better, who's faster, who's responsible for what and anythin' else either one o' you two pole cats care ta think of! We is all fed up with it and we ain't gonna listen to it anymore!"

"W-w-w-w-w-what d-d-d-d-did w-w-w-w-we e-e-e-e-e-ever d-d-d-d-d-d-do t-t-t-t-t-to y-y-y-y-y-ou," Connor asked.

Daemon looked at Edith in surprise. "They still don't git it, do they?"

"It wouldn't appear so," Edith agreed.

"Well then listen up ya dad gum hot-headed boiler brains," Daemon growled at the soggy pair. "We did this because you both is ruinin' this here festival! People are startin' ta get scared o' ya. But neither one o' ya see it because neither one o' ya will shut your daggone mouths long enough ta see it! It's all about this pointless razzum-frazzum rivalry ya all have! The point is, in the midst o' y'all's pissin' contest, y'all have forgotten a rule that we as engines are ta hold sacred when it comes to humans and festivals!"

Edith recited it for Daemon, "All rivalries regarding railroads, engines, operating practices and anything else are not discussed in the presence of children."

Daemon and Edith remained silent for a moment, watching the eastern engines' reactions. As they expected, both Connor and Hank were embarrassed. Though it was an unwritten rule in the "Proper Locomotive Etiquette" manual, it was nevertheless one that the vast majority of engines took very seriously. And they had spent the last two days completely ignoring that rule. Thinking about the events that had recently transpired, both Connor and Hank suddenly felt very lucky that all they'd gotten for their stupidity was a freezing cold wash-down.

Erika though about that rule too. It had been one of the first things Edith had drilled into her head upon arriving in California. And while she still had rivals out there in the world, she always made sure she adhered to that sacred rule whenever they were near and children were present. Thinking about it now kind of made Erika wish Daemon had asked her to help out more in disciplining Connor and Hank. But then, if she hadn't contacted Belle, none of what had just transpired would've happened and Connor and Hank would be well on their way to totally ruining the festival.

"This festival ain't about the Pennsylvania or the New York Central or the Cotton Belt or the Southern Pacific… none o' that stuff!" Daemon yelled. "This festival is about bein' an American in a land that ain't America! And that's somethin' we's all got in common whether ya like it or not! And I'll be boiler washed if I'm gonna just sit around and let you two fire heads ruin this for everyone. I don't know what in daggone heck started this rivalry between you two and I really don't give a dang neither! I's callin' a truce between you two until… at the absolute very least… this festival is concluded! And if you two nitwits have any brains at all in them smokeboxes o' yours, you'll keep that truce goin' long after the festival is over!"

Connor and Hank didn't speak, both of them still too cold to really talk. Silently though, they both agreed that for the sake of the festival and those who attended, they need to quit arguing for now.

"One more thing," Daemon warned. "If you two have so much as one little tiff durin. The remainder o' this festival, the next place lil' darlin' here and I drag ya both ta will be the Waste Dump and have about twenty tons o' stinky unmentionables dumped on your heads. Do I make myself clear Mister Hank?"

Still shivering, Hank nodded.

"And you Mister Connor?" Daemon asked. "Do I make myself clear?"

Connor also nodded in agreement.

"Outstandin'," Daemon said. "So from now on, behave yourselves! Or else…" Daemon snarled barked at them like a furious Rottweiler, startling Connor and Hank and leaving them wondering just how belligerent the normally easy-going Daemon could get if he was sufficiently angered.

Edith stifled a laugh.

Off to the side, Caitlin glanced at Erika. "Oh yes Erika, I do so like your cousin."

For the second time in almost as many minutes, Erika wondered if Caitlin needed a dose of the freezing water as well.

In Edith's cab, Brett the Third checked his watch. They were about due for their dinner and wine excursion. "Come on little lady," he said. "We going to be late if we get a move on."

Edith looked at Daemon. "He's right Daemon. We need to get back to Tidmouth station. Our excursion is due to leave soon and Sir Topham Hatt is probably wondering where we all went."

"Not ta mention he's liable ta be a mite sore at us once he sees what we done here," Daemon observed. "Well, we'll just have ta face those consequences when we see him. Let's git movin'." To Connor and Hank, he warned, "And not a single peep outta either o' ya until we get back there!"

Connor and Hank were still shivering so much, they really couldn't have said anything even if they'd wanted to.

As all of the engines expected, Sir Topham Hatt and Sir Robert Norramby were not at all pleased to see Edith and Daemon return with Connor and Hank in tow and still shaking uncontrollably from their ice cold shower. "You two have a special to take," Sir Topham Hatt grumbled. "Just what did you think you were doing down at the harbor?"

"Preservin' the finest traditions of American steam Sir Topham Hatt, sir," Daemon insisted.

Sir Topham Hatt was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Sir Topham Hatt sir," Daemon said. "I'm real sorry if I've upset ya by goin' off half steamed like that and draggin' Hank with me. But I'm not gonna apologize for what I done. Tarnation Sir Topham Hatt, these two foul-tempered hot boxes has been drivin' us nuts the past two days with their petty rivalry and constant arguin'. Now I don't know how it is here, but back in America we's got a known rule that states ya don't let petty jealousies and rivalries and whatever else be show in front o' kids. It ain't right. But these here hotheads have been arguin' almost non-stop since the festival began and people been scared around them. A few of younger ones even been cryin' around them. And… well dad gum sir, I just couldn't take it anymore. None o' us could." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So, I took it upon myself ta flush out some o' these ornery pole cats' finer qualities."

Edith snickered and again, was forced to stifle a laugh. Caitlin however, was less successful in that endeavor and burst out with a few hearty chuckles before being able to regain control of herself.

It did not go unnoticed by Sir Topham Hatt. He pursed his lips and glanced back at Sir Robert who was also looking at the engines with a stern expression. "Is this true?" Sir Topham Hatt asked evenly.

"Yes sir it is," Edith answered immediately, still trying hard not to start laughing like Caitlin had.

"Absolutely," Caitlin agreed.

"It was even getting hard for me to be cheerful," Rosie admitted.

Erika wasn't going to say anything until she saw Edith giving her a hard look. "Yes," Erika finally spoke up. "Daemon is right."

Sir Topham Hatt nodded. "Connor? Hank? Do either of you have anything to say in your defense?"

They were both still so cold, they could barely form any word in their mouths. Hank however, managed to slowly shake his head in the negative.

Sir Topham Hatt nodded slowly. "In that case, I am going to take your silence for an admission of guilt in this matter."

Daemon spoke up again. "Again Sir Topham Hatt, I'm sorry if I overstepped my authority. Not that I really have any. But I was just concerned of what they was doin' ta this festival. I didn't want ta see them ruin' it."

"None of us did," Edith agreed.

"If ya therefore, must punish someone Sir Topham Hatt, then I accept full responsibility for all this and punishment," Daemon offered. "It was my plan that led ta this and I asked the others ta help me out."

"That may be Sir Topham Hatt," Edith agreed. "But I nevertheless stand with my cousin. I could've denied to help him and yet I did not because I was just as concerned about what Connor and Hank were doing to the festival as Daemon was."

Daemon was surprised. "What? No lil' darlin', I can't let ya take the blame for this. This is my fault and mine alone."

"Daemon, stop," Edith commanded. "I'm just much a part of this as you are and I will willingly face the consequences with you."

To hear Edith say that shocked Erika all the way down to her frame.

Everyone anxiously waited for Sir Topham Hatt to speak. "Well," he said finally. "No real harm was done. And perhaps you taught Connor and Hank an important lesson. Still, how you handled this situation was unacceptable. I am the Controller of this railroad and anything that happens on it is my business. Therefore, I have a right to immediately be informed of any situation where engines are being disruptive. Is that understood you two?"

"Yes sir," Daemon said.

"Perfectly sir," Edith said.

Sir Topham Hatt turned to Connor and Hank who were finally starting to thaw out as it were. "As for the two of you, I may not condone what Daemon and Edith did. However, based solely on principle they were not wrong to discipline the two and I do not frown upon them for it. Your actions have severely jeopardized the success of this festival. And whether or not we have another festival next year depends solely on the success or failure of this one. Do I make myself clear you two?"

Connor and Hank both nodded. "Yes sir," Hank added weakly.

"All right then," Sir Topham Hatt said. "For now I'll consider the matter closed. But neither of you had better make any more disruptions during this festival. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Connor spoke for himself and Hank.

Turning back to Edith and Daemon, Sir Topham Hatt ended with, "And if things get out of hand again, I expect to be notified right away. You let me worry about discipline from now on. Okay?"

"Yes sir," Daemon agreed.

"Very well sir," Edith replied.

"All right. Daemon, you and Edith have an excursion to Vicarstown leaving in just a few minutes, so I suggest you get to the station straight away so you're not late. The rest of you just relax and enjoy the evening. This festival is only half over and there will be more excursions, meet 'n' greets and photo ops for everyone tomorrow."

The engines all agreed and Daemon headed off in the direction of Tidmouth Station. Before Edith could follow though, Erika rolled up next to her. "I can't believe you would willingly stand next to him like that and face punishment."

Edith snorted. "I'm not surprised to hear that coming from you Erika and it greatly disappoints me. Because for my part, having three descendants of engineers care for me has taught me one of life's most import lessons. I wish I'd learned it decades ago, but I suppose late is better than not at all. That lesson Erika is that family always stands together with family. And Daemon _is_ family Erika."

"No he's not!" Erika loudly protested, still convinced she could get Edith to see her way of thinking.

"And that's what's so tragic Erika," Edith sighed. "Because you seem to be the only one here on Sodor who refuses to accept that. Even your precious Gordon accepts Daemon not only as your cousin, but as a friend too. Decades ago I refused to accept that Ella was not only my sister, but a Daylight engine at that. If she was here now I swear I would spend hours, perhaps even days, apologizing to her for my inexcusable and infantile behavior all those years ago. I don't know if she'd accept my apology or even hear me out and truthfully Erika, I wouldn't expect her to. But I would apologize to her nonetheless." Brett the Third released Edith's brakes and a jet of steam shot out of her blow off. "A last piece of motherly advice Erika… learn from my mistakes. Don't continue repeating them. If you don't , then in the end it will only show that you haven't truly learned anything. And the one who will end up hurt the most, is yourself."

And with steam hissing from her cylinders, Edith headed off towards the station, leaving Erika alone with her thoughts.

"What was that all about?" Daemon asked Edith as she arrived.

"Oh… just a little big sister to little sister chat," Edith said. Her curiosity got the better of her. "Daemon, may I ask you something?"

"Sure lil' darlin'," Daemon smiled. "Ask me whatever ya like."

"Just what does my sister have against you," Edith asked. "Why is she so angry at you?"

Daemon's expression turned from jovial and pleasant to one of complete confusion. "Tarnation lil' darlin', I wish knew. Ta this day she ain't never told me. And every time I ask her why she's so dang ticked off, she just avoids the question. Do me a favor lil' darlin'? If ya ever find out why she's got her flues so twisted up, would ya mind tellin' me what it is? I'd sure as heck like ta know."

Edith suspected that was going to be Daemon's answer, though she had hoped it wouldn't be. Poor Daemon. Everyone had the right to know why they were being accused of something, yet Erika was holding him accountable for something he had no knowledge of. And the fact that Erika still hadn't told him what that was despite his demands to know led Edith to suspect that whatever it was Erika was so angry about might not truly be Daemon's fault. If that was true, Erika's anger was grossly misplaced. _Oh Erika, you foolish little girl,_ Edith thought. Thoughts of Ella and how she'd treated her little sister crept into Edith's mind and she nearly broke down in tears. But she took a deep breath and calmed herself. "You can count on that Daemon," she finally answered his question. Seeing their excursion was almost ready, she asked. "You want to lead or should I?"

"Ladies first, I always say," Daemon replied.

Edith smiled. "Thank you Daemon. But I want you to lead coming home."

"If that's the way ya want it lil' darlin'," he said. "That's the way it'll be."

Once again Edith smiled. _Such a gentleman,_ she thought. _Even for a country boy. How is it that he doesn't have a girlfriend yet?_ She let the question go. Knowing the answer wouldn't matter anyway. "Let's go then," she said. And the two of them steamed off to couple on to their train.


End file.
